


Team CRML

by Charles_Tonchew



Series: Team CRML [1]
Category: RWBY
Genre: Gen, M/M, RWBY - Freeform, Shade Academy, Slice of Life, general silliness, vacuo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-27
Updated: 2019-04-19
Packaged: 2019-05-14 14:09:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 34,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14771139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Charles_Tonchew/pseuds/Charles_Tonchew
Summary: This whole experiment started out as a RWBY-inspired tabletop game that I tried to pitch to my friends.  It all fell through when I couldn't drum up any real interest in the show or the game as a whole; however, I ended up liking the characters I came up with, so I just decided to salvage the concept and turn it into a series of short stories instead.I decided to set the stage in Vacuo, since we hadn't really seen much of it in the show yet, and I liked the draw of it being a mostly lawless region with Shade being the only real source of order there.  A few of my characters' sillier traits also stem from this; I figured if anyplace in Remnant would have shock rock and professional wrestling, it'd be Vacuo.  As for the timeframe, I figure it takes place about twenty years before the show proper, so not much chance of clashing with canon events.Anyhow, I ended up doing quite a few of these and now I'm working on a sendoff story, so I'll post more chapters intermittently here.And of course, I make no claim of ownership to RWBY, its characters or any concepts related to it.





	1. The Initiation

The letter had gone out nearly three weeks prior.  Gaspard questioned whether he would ever get a reply, or whether he had just been rejected outright and they hadn't bothered to tell him.  It wouldn't surprise him given his unusual circumstances, but still; they could at least let him know that he'd been rejected and would have to wait another year.  
  
It was a bit silly to be thinking this same thing day in and day out, he knew.  But still, the silence was getting to him.  He had half a mind to catch the next convoy down there and find out in person whether he'd been accepted or not.  Master Oran and Mistress Caldera certainly wouldn't approve of that, though.  
  
So once again, he continued his daily routine of retrieving the mail (after breakfast and morning training exercises, of course), and listlessly skimmed through them as he walked back.  As usual, few bore any return addresses or even so much as a sender's name, and none had his name upon them -- wait, no, one did.  In handwriting he didn't recognize, as well.  
  
Could this be it?  He opened the envelope and pulled out the letter within.  
  
An official Vacuoan insignia.  A greeting that bore his name.  
  
"In recognition of your talents and the endorsement of two accredited Hunters, we invite you to participate in the initiation exam for Shade Academy--"  
  
Gaspard's eyes widened.  He'd done it!  He was accepted!  Barely containing his excitement, he skimmed the rest.  
  
"The initiation will begin on the 21st of August in Vermilion at precisely noon.  We are unable to accommodate late entrants, so make every effort to arrive before then."  
  
Vermilion?  Why there of all places?  
  
"This will be a test of everything you have learned as both a Huntsman-in-training and a Vacuo native, so we expect you to come fully equipped and prepared for anything."  
  
Well, he lacked a lot of exposure to Vacuo's worst elements for... various reasons, but he had trained with two of Vacuo's best.  Plus he was a quick thinker.  That had to count for something, right?  
  
He skimmed the rest, as it mostly just consisted of the usual preamble and qualities of leadership he'd heard a thousand times over the course of his training.  The signature at the bottom caught his eye, however.  
  
"Professor Corvus, Headmaster of Shade Academy"  
  
He ran back to his temporary lodgings, excited but wary.  
  
\---  
  
The next supply convoy to Vermilion was happy to welcome him aboard - provided he would help them fend off any Grimm or raider attacks, of course.  To that end he now listlessly watched the surrounding hills and ruins, keeping an eye out for any potential dangers.  
  
He'd done this before, of course, but it was an exceptionally dull way to pass the time.  
  
If there was an upside, it was that the job didn't let your mind wander too much.  If you got too far into your thoughts, you'd miss something and put the whole convoy in danger.  And anyone left standing afterward would never let you live that down, if not shoot you on the spot.  
  
Took his mind off the anxiety of the entrance exam, at least.  As well as the high hopes put on him by Oran, Caldera and especially his parents.  This was something he wanted to do - for their sakes most of all - but he couldn't help but feel he was underqualified in spite of everything.  After all, he--  
  
A gunshot jarred him from that train of thought.  He whipped around to the source of the sound and caught a sight of rapidly-evaporating black smoke some distance away.  
  
Another shot, another kill.  Oak sure lived up to her motto.  
  
"I do still question the wisdom of shooting Grimm before they've even made the decision to attack us." Gaspard had to shout over the rumble of the engine.  
  
"They can't do any damage if you never give 'em a chance to.  Preventative measures." was her reply.  
  
"Yeah, but doesn't that just attract other Grimm?  And bandits?"  
  
"The smart ones scatter once they see one of their own die.  Not like they can move fast enough to catch up with us anyway."  
  
"And the dumber ones?"  
  
"They give chase.  And then they get shot too.  Win-win for all the upstanding citizens of Vacuo."  
  
He chuckled.  "Well, you know your stuff.  I'll let you get back to it."  He returned to his watch, the occasional bullet firing and rising black cloud being the only real respite for the rest of his shift.  
  
\---  
  
Thankfully, the convoy had arrived at Vermilion with little incident; no bandits had even made the attempt (perhaps warded off by Ms. Oak's reputation, he mused), and the few Grimm that were bold/foolish enough to approach got picked off in very short order.  Like most of Vacuo's remaining towns, it was built in a small oasis and was rather plain - a collection of small sun-baked huts, adequate to do whatever quaint farming and trading they could in this harsh environment.  
  
He arrived to quite a large gathering of Huntsmen, huntresses and aspiring apprentices thereof, as well as quite a few who he assumed had gathered simply to watch the proceedings. A little over a hundred in all, he estimated.  
  
Someone toward the front, armed with a bullhorn, managed to get the crowd's attention.  "Greetings to all aspiring students and their supporters.  Shade Academy welcomes you to this year's entrance exam.  I am professor Afon, and I will be evaluating your progress during tomorrow's exam."  
  
Afon was a name Gaspard was not familiar with.  The letter mentioned Corvus, the academy's current headmaster, but he didn't seem to be present in Vermilion for some reason.  Then again, he had no idea how the entrance exam actually worked as of yet, and neither of his mentors had given him much information about it.  Probably all part of the test.  
  
"As Huntsmen and Huntresses, you will be Vacuo's best defense against the enemies that defile it, from both within and afar.  Your endorsement by an existing Hunter is only the first step down this road; you take the next step tomorrow.  By proving that you can apply what you have learned and surviving Vacuo's rigors, you will earn the right to enter Shade Academy and begin a new chapter of your lives, standing ever-vigilant as a protector of the innocent and a guardian of all that we hold dear."  
  
Well, he had a flair for the dramatic if nothing else, Gaspard mused.  
  
"Prospective students should get rested now, for tomorrow will be the greatest challenge of your lives.  The initiation begins tomorrow precisely at noon, at the top of the hill overlooking Vermilion.  Be sure that you are present and accounted for at that time, as late entrants will not be accepted.  Best of luck to you all tomorrow, and may your swords be finely honed."  
  
\---  
  
The gathering had turned into a low-level party by the time night fell.  The gathered hunters-in-training had begun to tell their stories, take part in sparring exercises or just go over their strategies for tomorrow with one another.  A few of the older ones present had even set up impromptu shows, playing music, offering advice or just telling tales to any who would listen.  Gaspard felt a bit out of his element, however, as he was one of the few that came alone and he knew basically nobody here because of the circumstances of his past.  He hadn't even found his Semblance yet, either, which probably did him no favors in a crowd of Hunters-in-training.  
  
No, he couldn't let doubts drag him down now.  He'd come this far and now it was up to him to prove he was capable.  He decided to bear witness to a few sparring matches to calm his anxieties.  He moved to a small clearing that had formed near the edge of the encampment and managed to catch a glimpse of a duel in progress.  
  
They fought with wooden practice weapons, as was custom for many training battles, but the situation was one he'd seen more than a few times.  A rather arrogant youngster quickly getting the upper hand over his opponent, using little more than size and raw strength to quickly overpower them.  A show of ego; the kind that usually got them taught a harsh lesson in an actual fight.  
  
"Is even one of you man enough to stand against me for even a minute?!" taunted the brute, tossing his staff to the ground.  "Or are all those weapons and muscles just for show?!"  
  
A few moments of silence passed as the brute began to prepare another taunt.  Before he could, however, a voice rang out from the crowd.  
  
"If it gets you to shut up for a bit, I'll take you on."  
  
All eyes turned to the source - a blue-haired girl whose eyes were concealed beneath a deep blue blindfold.  She was easily half a foot shorter than him as well, which led to some derisive jeers from the crowd - and the brute himself.  
  
Dear brute had clearly never been taught the number one rule - never underestimate your opponent.  Remnant had a way of taking your biggest strength and turning it into your greatest weakness, especially when Hunters were involved.  She certainly hadn't shown any sign of worry, either; had she already sized up her opponent and thought up a plan to defeat him?  
  
"Your bravado is admirable, but I have a policy of not picking on the infirm." he laughed.  
  
"Sharp words for a dull mind." she shot back without missing a beat.  
  
"I'll turn a  _blind eye_  to that insult and let you walk away." he taunted back.  "A pretty good offer, I'd say."  
  
"But where's the fun in that when I can make you limp away?"  she deadpanned back, earning more jeers.  Not waiting for him to reply, she continued.  "Did you just fill that empty brain of yours with taunts instead of any actual skills?  Sure seems so."  
  
They could have just as easily settled this with a battle of insults, Gaspard mused.  Either way, she'd probably win.  
  
"You haven't seen my skills.  Then again, you probably haven't seen much of anything."  
  
"Why don't you show me, then?  Let me see firsthand how a monkey swings a stick."  
  
"Fine then.  Pick your weapon, eagle eye.  But never let it be said I didn't give you a chance to be smart."  
  
"I've a feeling you've had a lot of chances to be smart." the blindfolded girl responded, picking up a pair of wooden tonfas.  
  
She certainly hadn't had any trouble finding them; a detail her opponent hadn't taken note of as he took his place in the ring.  She soon found her mark as well (again, with no trouble) and they faced one another.  "Fight!" the de facto referee, likely one of his underlings, called.  
  
The brute, still confident of his advantage, took a quiet step forward, endeavoring to make as little noise as he could.  He slowly raised his weapon and then, turning his head to the right, swung as quickly as he could at his opponent's head from his left.  The blindfolded girl simply raised an arm to block, easily catching it before the impact.  
  
Undeterred, the brute pulled back and swung low from the opposite side, which was again met with a simple block.  He swung from above on his third attempt, which she simply sidestepped.  
  
Still, he at least had speed to back up his brawn.  He drew back the staff again for a flurry of thrusts.  Rather than allow herself to be pushed back, however, she spun to the side out of his reach and then quickly rolled in closer to a fighting stance, parrying another swing and simultaneously landing a thrust to the ribs.  
  
Undeterred, he spun backwards, whipping the staff as he did, for another attack which the girl easily blocked.  Just a feint, but enough to buy him a second as he drew back and swung low and deep from the left side.  A short hop was all it took her to clear it and land a swing from her own weapon, clipping his shoulder.  
  
He threw a low punch at her midsection this time, which she leapt away from.  This bought him the moment he needed to ready the staff again and come at her with a flurry of attacks from both sides.  He was clearly trying to throw her off, starting a short pattern then quickly throwing one from the opposite side - but she remained undeterred, blocking or dodging them all.  A final thrust came which he quickly redirected to the side opposite her, hoping to catch her by surprise with a quick swing to the side.  However, he met only air.  
  
She had anticipated his move and went into a spinning jump, landing just behind him on his right and rapping him on the side of the head before he could spin around.  Hard enough to put him down, though he wasn't out like a light as Gaspard had expected; just clutching his head in pain.  
  
"So it is true.  The louder a monkey howls, the smaller his balls." she stated in her usual deadpan tone.  A few laughs erupted, even from his own peanut gallery.  
  
She replaced her weapons on the rack and walked out of the ring, a small group of impressed onlookers following after her for some distance, expressing their amazement and awe.  Gaspard just smiled and moved on to the next sight, hoping the brute's pride wasn't wounded too badly; that never ended well for anyone.  Though just before he left, he heard her speak a few more words over the crowd.  
  
"Please.  I just want to read my book."  
  
Clearly there was a lot more to her than met the-- you know what, nevermind.  
  
\---  
  
A windy, stormy morning had rolled in.  The inhabitants of Vermilion shut themselves inside to wait out the storm while the rest of those gathered took refuge in vehicles and secure tents.  The only ones still out were on business; namely, the candidates, a few of their supporters, and the handful of Shade staff.  
  
The lineup had begun right on schedule on a small hilltop overlooking the town, where the candidates had taken their marks.  About forty in all from a quick count.  Gaspard had recognized the blindfolded girl from the night before, but still hadn't had the opportunity to catch her name.  Everyone else here was unknown to him, though one certainly stood out.  A veritable giantess who stood over a foot taller than himself, with long lavender hair visible beneath her desert gear.  She had somehow avoided his notice until only a few minutes ago, when he had caught an offhand remark to one of her compatriots.  
  
"Are all Hunters this small?"  
  
That had given a chuckle.  He couldn't help but wonder if there was some truth to the rumor of a village of giants somewhere deep in the desert.  
  
A figure in a black cloak stood before them now, accompanying Afon and two others he didn't yet know.  He spoke through a microphone, amplified through speakers set up throughout the hilltop.  
  
"Greetings, candidates.  I am Professor Corvus, the headmaster of Shade Academy.  You have doubtless all seen the disorder and lawlessness of Vacuo.  Many have come to accept it as simply a part of life here, turning a blind eye to the atrocities they witness in hopes the same fate will not befall them.  Unlike most, however, you are not content to simply accept this as a fact of life.  Instead, you seek to bring order to our land and prosperity to all of our people, not just those who would prey on the weak.  
  
"But while your goal is noble, you also recognize that it is a task too large for any single person.  You seek others of like mind and equal skill to aid you in this task.  Shade Academy exists for exactly this purpose; we are a beacon of hope in a land of desolation and despair.  You will be a part of this great undertaking, but only if you can meet our standards today.  
  
"To this end, you will all be participating in our entrance exam - a practical test of all that you have learned in your training.  This is a test not only of your ability to fight, but to survive.  To band together and overcome obstacles that one person alone could never hope to surmount.  To bring out the best in Vacuo, we must find those with potential to bring out the best in others.  For that reason, the first person you make eye contact with will be your partner for the duration of your stay at Shade, and your destinies will be linked - your success or failure in this exam, and at Shade, hinges entirely on your ability to work as one."  
  
That left Gaspard a bit worried.  He was likely at a disadvantage among other Hunters in training considering his past.  He hoped that whoever he ended up with wouldn't hold that against him.  
  
"The dangers you face ahead will be real.  Do not hesitate to use all that you have learned as Hunters wain training to survive.  Your goal rests at Shade Academy, and your deadline is precisely at sunset.  Make your way first to the checkpoint at Crocus, then proceed to Shade itself with the relic you acquire there.  Your test begins as soon as the clock strikes twelve."  
  
The bell signaling noon sounded shortly after he was done speaking.  A sudden sound erupted somewhere to Gaspard's left and he briefly saw something disappear into the dust.  Then another sounded somewhere to his right.  As he pondered that, the metallic panel beneath him kicked up suddenly and with great force, propelling him high into the air.  
  
" _OH SHIIIIIIIIT!!_ "  
  
\---  
  
Once the initial panic subsided, he found himself at the peak of the launch and now arcing back toward the ground, and a very sudden stop.  One he was certain his Aura wouldn't save him from.  
  
Think, damn it, think.  You've trained for this!  
  
It was something he'd practiced a few times (Oran had called it a "landing strategy"), but having an air-filled cushion to land on lessened the tension considerably.  Now he was out here with only the Grimm and the dust and hard ground he couldn't see and -- FOCUS!  NOW!  
  
He reached for his sheathed weapon, his mind racing as he spun its chamber to the wind shell he'd loaded into it.  
  
One-one-thousand.  Two-one-thousand.  Three-one-thousand.  
  
He fired his best guess at vertically downward at what he estimated was fifteen feet from the ground.  A shell rang out and slammed into the earth beneath him, drastically slowing his descent as it erupted into a massive blast of wind.  The dust beneath him cleared momentarily as his momentum was stifled by the powerful gust, allowing him to see that he was still a bit higher up than he'd hoped.  
  
But at least it'll just be a painful fall rather than a fatal one.  Tuck and roll.  
  
His upper back touched dirt first, but the brunt of the impact had been softened by his aura and the roll he had managed at the last moment.  He tumbled for a short distance, came to a stop face-down and stayed there for a moment to get his bearings, let the adrenaline rush subside, and remind himself to never take solid ground for granted again.  
  
It wasn't the first time he'd come close to death.  But it was still something he could never get used to.  He doubted anyone could.  
  
After a minute or two (or maybe longer), he wiped his goggles clean, took a small sip of his canteen to calm his nerves, and, with a glance at his compass, set out to the east, hoping this storm would subside soon.  
  
\---  
  
Mint had an easier time of landing; just one benefit of being able to reduce one's density to a fraction.  Such a Semblance also gave her considerable advantages in mobility, not the least of which was that she could cover ground much more quickly and tire more slowly than most people due to not having to carry her own weight.  
  
Taking a quick moment to orient herself, she set out in the direction of Shade, keeping an eye out for anyone else she could find in the storm.  Not the easiest thing to do in a mile-high dust cloud, but being alone in Grimm territory with very limited visibility wasn't a particularly attractive prospect for even the best of Huntresses.  
  
An hour or so later, over the winds came a very faint metallic sound, somewhere to her left.  She headed in that direction.  
  
"Hello?"  she shouted over the winds.  
  
No reply came.  She ran a bit further and tried again.  "Is there somebody there?"  
  
A twanging sound rang out followed by a cloud of black smoke blowing past her in the wind.  She glanced in that direction and saw it - a blue-haired girl fending off a small group of Grimm.  Deathstalkers, to be exact.  
  
"Over here!" She responded at last.  "Half-dozen Grimm!"  
  
Indeed, she'd gotten the attention of a group of relatively small Deathstalkers, roughly waist-height.  She had made short work of another with wrist-mounted crossbows before Mint approached, killing one approaching with a swing of her weapon, cracking through its shell to the organs within.  She switched Vel's configuration to its spear form as the blue-haired girl's weapon also changed, the bow arms folding inward to form arm-length blades.   The last two 'Stalkers went down shortly thereafter, their small frames not affording them much protection against forged steel.  
  
"Another one's coming." she spoke.  "Through the ground-- MOVE!"  
  
Mint dashed a short distance away, narrowly evading a monstrous cousin to the Deathstalkers they'd just dispatched as it erupted from the surface beneath them.  They didn't have a concept of rage or revenge, she knew; just a cold, merciless mission of extermination against all creatures with a soul.  Still, the glowing red eyes and eerie rattling it emitted made it easy to forget that for just a moment.  
  
"Fought a Deathstalker this big before?" Mint shouted over the noise.  
  
"Had a few friends along, but yeah."  
  
"Well, we're about to become fast friends." Mint shouted as the Deathstalker's tail swiped at her; she narrowly leapt back, firing a wrist-mounted weapon at it.  Two small circular blades ripped forth, telescoping to several times their compacted size, aimed at the joint on the stinger where it met the tail.  It pulled back at the last moment, resulting in one glancing off the tail's armor while the other managed to cut a small gash in the stinger itself - not even deep enough to draw blood.  
  
Clodagh's weapons folded back into their crossbow configuration as she took aim at the creature's thorax.  A bolt ripped forth, embedding itself in the creature's chitinous plating.  
  
"Try something with a bit more punch." she called over the creature's hiss of pain.  
  
"Got it!" Mint called back, readying her melee weapon once again.  She leapt up again, its flukes folding inward as the handle extended.  Now in a spear-like form, she let it fly downward at its target, hitting with enough force to embed itself in the Stalker's back-armor.  As she touched down, a mechanical motor on her back clicked on, pulling the spear free via its attached rope and returning it to her hand.  
  
Another quick leap to the side put Mint out of the range of one swiping claw, only for her to get swatted backward as another intercepted her in the air.  She flew much further than one would expect - a disadvantage of her Semblance - and crashed into a sand dune some distance away.  She was back up quickly, but the monster had already turned its efforts to the other girl, who slid to avoid a large claw and attempted to drive one of her katar blades into the less-armored underside of its head.  She'd only managed a glancing blow, however, as the monster simply stepped backward and swung again with its tail, forcing her to leap over its armored claw and escape.  
  
Mint soon rejoined the fight, taking advantage of the monster's distraction to switch her weapon to its war pick form, its flukes folding together into a single large spike.  Leaping to cover her approach, she landed atop the monster's backside and drove it hard into the monster's left claw joint, cracking through the weaker armor there.  Just as quickly as she landed, she leapt away again, letting the tail stinger hit only air.  
  
That had finally managed to weaken the creature, as it now favored the other claw in its pursuit of the two.  "I got one of its claws!" she shouted in triumph.  
  
"Great.  Keep that tail at bay and I'll go in for a kill shot." was Clodagh's only reply.  
  
Mint complied, switching her weapon back to a spear form and aiming for the narrow end of the tail.  Her throw missed, but she swung her arm to the side, sending a ripple through the rope that caused the weapons's flukes to unfold and the rope to wrap itself about the tail.  She dashed to the right side of the monster and deactivated her Semblance, giving her greater weight to resist the Stalker's strength.  
  
She knew she couldn't match the massive Grimm in raw power, but she proved enough of a nuisance as the monster's tail bore down at Clodagh, stopping short of hitting her when it hit Mint's resistance.  She rolled under the weakened claw and, not missing a beat, thrust as hard as she could at the a spot just under the creature's head plating.  She pulled the blade free, adding a few crossbow bolts for good measure from her other weapon, and the creature at last seemed to have been mortally wounded; it collapsed to the ground with a shriek of pain and fell still, scattering to the winds shortly thereafter.  
  
\---  
  
It was only when the coast was clear that Mint got a good look at her.  She was dressed in similar desert garb to her own, though she wasn't wearing goggles.  Instead, she had a deep-blue blindfold that covered her eyes.  Was she blind, Mint wondered.  She'd heard rumors of blinded Huntsmen and Huntresses being able to use their Auras or Semblances to 'see', but had never actually encountered any such thing in her life.  Until now, probably.  
  
Nonetheless, she'd be perfect for what Mint had in mind.  What good luck in finding a partner!  
  
"Thanks." the other girl spoke, her weapon's blades retracting into the metallic bracers she wore on each arm.  "Clodagh Lapis."  
  
"M-Mint Clovis." she replied.  
  
"Pleasure to meet you." Clodagh replied.  "You wouldn't happen to know where Crocus is from here, by chance?"  
  
"We're quite a ways out.  It's about halfway between Vermilion and the capital."  
  
"I was afraid of that."  replied Clodagh.  "Well, you're probably better-equipped to navigate than me, so lead on.  If nothing else, at least we can look for a place to get out of this wind for a bit."  
  
"...Right."  
  
They set out for a small building Mint had spotted as she'd flown.  
  
\---  
  
Gaspard followed his compass to the east, weathering the winds and dust cloud that left him unable to see or hear much of anything else.  He hadn't seen anyone else since he'd landed either, which just left him wondering how far everyone had been flung by that springboard, and how many were still in similar straits to him.  
  
Well, no use complaining, he supposed.  Just had to keep moving and hopefully he'd run into somebody; everyone's destination was the same, after all.  Continuing for some distance, he felt a small tremor through the ground.  
  
"Hello?" he shouted and then turned, looking around him.  
  
Just dust and wind.  But that didn't account for the ground shaking.  Was someone fighting a Grimm nearby?  
  
A low rumbling emanated from the ground a short distance away, steadily growing stronger.  
  
Yep.  _He_ was.  
  
A gargantuan Grimm turtle, easily the size of a small house, erupted from the earth with startling speed and a low growl.  Covered in thick armored plates, this thing definitely wouldn't be easy to kill.  Assuming he could even put a dent in it by himself.  
  
Well, outrunning it wasn't much of an option either.  Grimm were notoriously tenacious creatures; once they locked onto a target, they wouldn't stop pursuing it until they or their quarry were dead.  Given that the Grimm never seemed to eat or sleep, it usually meant the latter for someone who wasn't trained to deal with them.  
  
Gaspard was, though he'd had to pick up a lot in only a short time, and he wasn't familiar with this particular type of Grimm.  New ones sprung up occasionally, he learned, and those who encountered them had been caught off-guard and killed on more than a few occasions.  
  
He hoped that he wasn't about to become a statistic as he cycled his weapon's chamber to a fire shell, looking for a weak point he could hit.  Maybe an exposed joint or just into its mouth --  
  
That train of thought was quickly cut short as the beast pulled itself into its shell, began a rapid spin and flung itself toward him at startling speed.  He barely managed to run a few steps to one side and leap out of its path.  After skidding a considerable distance, the monster came to a stop, emerging from its shell and quickly fixing its gaze on Gaspard once again.  
  
O..kay.  Change of plans.  He took aim with a blue shell instead and fired at the monster's head.  It erupted into a mass of solid ice on impact, engulfing and immobilizing the turtle's head.  Maybe that would slow it down.  
  
It did, but not as much as he'd hoped.  While it seemed to prevent the turtle from doing another spinning attack, it ripped into a surprisingly fast charge and a short leap, still using its tremendous mass as its weapon.  Gaspard leapt to the side to avoid its dive, his rapier at the ready as he thrust into the joint of the turtle's leg where it met the shell.  It sunk in a few inches - not much more than an inconvenience for a monster this size - before he was swatted away by a quick swing of the turtle's iced-over head.  
  
Gaspard rolled with the hit, softening the impact significantly and putting a bit of distance between him and the turtle.  What else could he even do?  He certainly couldn't beat it this way...  
  
Think.  Think...  
  
The turtle whipped around and began another charge toward him, likely intending to try again at crushing him beneath its body.  He hit upon an idea at that moment.  
  
If he couldn't overpower such a foe, maybe he could at least get it on its back and render it helpless.  
  
He waited for it to approach, and as it began his leap, he fired another round at the ground beneath it.  A pillar of stone erupted upward from the impact point with considerable force, throwing off the turtle's leap and sending it much higher than it had anticipated.  Gaspard once again had to do a running dive out of the way as the propelled Grimm landed hard, smashing into the ground headfirst behind him and pelting the surrounding area with fragments of shattered ice.  
  
He'd done it!  The turtle was on its back.  But... no.  Could it have a way to get back up from that position?  
  
It certainly seemed undeterred by its predicament as it began to shift its weight hard to one side, gaining momentum to flip itself back upright.  Still, he had to take advantage of this opening.  A fire shell was quickly aimed and launched at a less-armored portion of the creature's neck.  
  
The turtle was undeterred, however, continuing its roll even as one side of its head was now heavily scorched.  The red glow of one eye was now absent, however, hinting that he'd managed to partially blind it at least.  Another guttural growl signaled that it was ready to charge again, withdrawing back into its shell for another spin.  
  
He retreated backwards a short distance before the spin, planning a leap to its blind side to have a better chance at avoiding it.  As he glanced back toward the monster, however, a second figure bolted past him, toward the very thing he was trying to get away from.  
  
"Wait!  What are you--"  
  
The other person had produced an enormous battle axe, closing in on the momentum-building behemoth without a moment of hesitation.  They leapt high into the air - almost ridiculously so - and came down on the creature's shell weapon-first, though what happened next surprised him.  
  
A massive implosion took place at the impact zone, sucking all the air around toward that single focal point with a thunderous whoosh.  A loud cracking soon erupted as well as the turtle's shell began to buckle under the intense pressure.  Just as abruptly as it had began, the pent-up energy exploded violently back outward, throwing the figure with it as the turtle followed through with its spin.  
  
Gaspard was able to easily evade it this time, only having to run a short distance toward its blind side to evade it.  That attack had certainly taken its toll on the turtle; it came to a sluggish stop, a deep, nasty gash oozing a black fluid from where the weapon had connected.  
  
This was his chance to end this.  
  
His sword didn't have a hard-hitting shell left to fire, but his other weapon still did.  Drawing his dagger, he closed the gap, took aim and launched another fire shell into the fissure.  With no armor to stop its trajectory, the shell flew inside, exploding somewhere deep within and dealing the turtle a lethal blow at last.  With a pained guttural noise, it at last went limp, beginning to fade to dust and smoke.  
  
A hefty clap on his shoulder nearly floored him again.  "Ha!  Nice shot there.  Not every day you get to meet a Shellcreeper, much less survive it with anything less than a small army!"  
  
It was the person he had seen a moment ago.  He recognized her now - the giantess from the initiation.  Lucky break, he supposed, that the person most well-equipped to take on a giant Grimm was also the one that found him.  And was crazy enough to do whatever she had just done.  
  
"Yeah."  He replied.  "Thanks.  I don't know what I would have done if you hadn't showed."  
  
"Well, you had the right idea at least.  Get it on its back, then hit while it's vulnerable.  Just have to move fast and kill it or they'll get back up and take another swing at you."  
  
You could probably flip one with your bare hands, he mused.  "Good to know.  Name's Gaspard Rhodonite, by the way."  
  
"Dirae Myosotis. I've heard there's a town about a mile northeast of here.  Let's get out of this wind for a while, eh?"  
  
Gaspard was in no mood to object.  It wouldn't be long before the battle rush wore off, after all.  
  
\---  
  
An indeterminate amount of time passed, the whipping winds and blinding dust showing no sign of stopping.  Even as a native of Vacuo who had seen many such storms over the years, these never got any more fun to endure.  At least the Grimm were relatively calm today, she supposed.  
  
After what felt like weeks, a reprieve finally showed itself - the outlines of some buildings on the horizon.  Taking a moment to remember her geography, she spoke.  
  
"We're near Sienna!  We can get out of the storm for a bit at least."  Mint shouted over the winds.  
  
"Best news I've heard all day." came the reply.  Mint couldn't be sure if it was sarcasm or not, but she didn't particularly care right now.  
  
As they approached, they found it was indeed Sienna.  Just one of many small towns left abandoned once the mines ran dry, the factories and houses left to decay as their inhabitants moved elsewhere in search of livelihood.  Still, it had served as an effective rest point for many nomads and squatters over the years; any roof over your head was a welcome one when the storms kicked up and the Grimm got antsy.  
  
The two entered an old factory through a thoroughly-rusted door  A quick sweep of the building revealed little that wasn't ransacked or decayed to uselessness, but fortunately no Grimm or bandits either.  
  
"Guess we can take a break, then." Clodagh slumped to the floor, exhaling heavily and rubbing her forehead.  "Hours and hours of wind sure gives you a headache after a while."  
  
"Probably worse in your case too, since you--"  Mint mentally slapped herself for letting her tongue wander.  "Sorry, that was rude."  
  
Clodagh chuckled.  "Don't be.  You're right.  Having super-hearing in a cloud of white noise is no fun at all."  
  
Mint couldn't help but chuckle back.  
  
"So, Clovis clan.  Aren't they the ones parading around the western reaches on some kind of righteous crusade?"  
  
Mint sighed at that.  "Yeah, that's us.  Though I'm personally opposed to such methods."  
  
"Hm?  You're one of the few I've heard who thinks that.  Most people are glad someone's taking the fights to all the raiders and bandits around the desert."  
  
"Oh, we're doing good work, don't get me wrong.  But for every bandit tribe we take down, two more raider camps are eager to band together and take the fight back to us.  It's just a big, never-ending whirlwind of violence and blood feuding when all the other nations out there have long moved past it."  
  
"That's just Vacuo.  The strong conquer, the weak get trampled."  
  
"And that's what I want to put a stop to." Mint responded.  "Making Vacuo a safer place can't be done at the barrel of a gun; that just breeds more hate and resentment.  What I want to do is give the people of Vacuo something greater to aspire to.  Someone whose example they'll follow not because they're forced to, but because they want to."  
  
Clodagh cracked a small smile.  "That idealism sounds like something out of a comic book."  
  
"Maybe it is." Mint replied. "But that's why I'm here.  To prove to my family that we have to lead by example, not by force.  They gave me this chance to prove that my way was better; I can't let them down."  
  
Clodagh chuckled.  "Well, it looks like we have some common ground, at least.  They said I'd never be a Huntress, but I've certainly made every effort to prove them wrong.  So, alright.  As your partner, we'll find a way to make this ridiculous scheme work."  
  
"We're not officially partners yet." Mint replied, a hint of relief and happiness in her voice.  
  
"Hm?"  
  
"The rules said something about eye contact, I believe."  
  
Clodagh's mind returned to Corvus's speech.  He had indeed said something to that effect.  
  
"And as Vacuo's shining beacons, we should be sure to follow the rules." Mint said, stepping closer.  
  
"...Oh, very well."  Clodagh said, untying her blindfold.  
  
\---  
  
The wind had finally slowed down, granting them a bit more visibility.  Still, that didn't help much when all you could see in every direction was dust and dirt and maybe the occasional discarded piece of trash.  Bloody desert climate.  
  
Still, that did let them get enough of a look around to spot a potential shelter from the storm - a small collection of buildings nestled against a hillside nearby.  
  
"There it is!" Dirae shouted over the wind.  
  
Gaspard had to wipe his goggles clean to see it, but it was indeed there.  Finally, a break from all this horrible weather.  They both rushed up the steep path toward it.  
  
\---  
  
"Someone's coming." Clodagh spoke.  
  
"I... where?" asked Mint, looking around.  
  
"Up the path we came.  I can hear them."  
  
She still couldn't hear anything over whipping winds.  Then again, she didn't have super-senses...  
  
"Two people, actually."  
  
Well, she had to see for herself now.  She walked over to the door they had come through and opened it a crack.  
  
She spotted one person coming over the hill.  Well over six feet at a glance and carrying an equally massive battle axe over one shoulder.  They were followed shortly thereafter by someone a foot shorter, a sword and dagger at their belt.  
  
A giantess and a fencer, she thought.  Would they suit her plan as well?  
  
Only one way to find out.  She invited them in.  
  
\---  
  
"Dirae Myosotis, apprentice of Dandel Burdock.  I... well, I don't know much about this Huntress stuff, but I always love a challenge."  
  
She wasn't disappointed by Dirae, at least.  She had certainly seen her share of battle, and judging from her sheer bulk and the weapon she wielded, she had to be a terror on the battlefield.  There was just one oddity.  
  


  
"Not familiar with the name Burdock.  Are they from outside Vacuo?"

  


"She's not a Huntress, if that's what you're wondering.  She is an amazing fighter, though.  Taught me everything I know."

Mint reminded herself to look into Burdock later, but if Dirae's words were true, she'd be a perfect candidate for her team.

He, on the other hand, was a bit of a different story.  A fraction of his partner's size, wielding a saber and a dagger that seemed to have some kind of gun function built in.  He also seemed to have... pink hair?  Maybe it was just the bad lighting, but she could swear it was.

"Gaspard Rhodonite, apprentice of Sangrin Oran and Nube Caldera."

He looked as though he'd barely seen any serious training, let alone combat, so his story was suspect at best... or a bad lie.

"You're apprenticed to the Blood Knight and the Dust Witch of Vacuo?" Mint asked, surprised.  "How in the world did you manage that?"

"Sheer stubbornness," he responded.  She clearly wasn't convinced.  Or just didn't find the joke very funny, assuming it was one.

"Well, alright, it was mostly pity."  Dirae laughed at that one.  He was a joker, it seemed.  At least until he continued moments later.

"No, really.  I was in and out of the ICU for years, thinking I wouldn't live to see my teens.  But my condition turned for the better, I eventually got discharged, and I wanted to follow my dream of being a Huntsman.  So I asked everyone I could find to take me on.  Most laughed me off.  As ridiculous as it sounds, those two were the only Hunters that would take in someone who weighed in at 102 pounds and had no formal training."

Mint was about to say something, but he continued before she could get a word in.

"I thought it was a prank at first.  They even told me I was going to, and I quote, 'endure the harshest training they'd given anyone'.  They were right. When I wasn't doing sparring, I was weightlifting. When I wasn't doing that, I was hitting the books.  When _that_ was out, I was devising strategies or learning Dust arts.  I had about four days off in that entire two year period.  But I eventually earned a personal recommendation, and so here but for the sake of persistence am I."

Dirae laughed again.  "Well, you can flip a Shellcreeper.  That counts for something, I'd say."

Had he really done all that?  Or was he just a liar looking for fame and glory?  ...Nah.  Those types didn't tend to last long in a real fight.  Maybe there was more to him than met the eye.  She certainly hoped so, at least.

"You went through all of that just to become a Huntsman?" Mint asked.  It was certainly an impressive story, assuming it was true.

"People say Vacuo is a terrible place to live, but it's got so much about it that's great.  Hell, I wouldn't be around today if not for the amazing people here - my friends, my parents, my doctors, everyone who fought for me and gave me a chance in my darkest hours.  So I want to give something back -show the world that our kingdom isn't all lowlifes and urban decay."

"You've certainly been blessed with the best it has to offer.  But with a name like that, I'm not surprised."  The blindfolded one spoke.  Though her tone betrayed no hint of envy, her words certainly did.

"Pardon?"

"Gaspard.  It's a variant on 'jasper', meaning 'treasure'.  You didn't know?"

"...Never really looked into it.  What kind of a name is 'Clodagh', then?"

"A river goddess from old Vytalan mythology."

"...Mm.  Fair enough.  You from up that way?"

"Northeast Vacuo, actually. Out there, infirmity is a liability.  One that usually gets you left for the Grimm."  Those words, paired with the blindfold she wore, implied she spoke from experience.

"Oh.  I'm... sorry to hear that."

"I'm not fishing for sympathy.  I'm saying that we're the exception, not the rule.  Most people don't get the chances we do.  That's just how Vacuo is."

Mint spoke next.  "But that's why we're all here - to share our fortunes with others.  To give those who don't have our gifts a chance to prosper in their own right.  Wouldn't you say so?"

"I... never really thought of it that way." Gaspard spoke.

"Right.  We're not just guardians - we're beacons of hope for everyone."

Well, assuming he did have some skill, maybe he could work as the archetypal underdog - the one who always pulls through in a key moment.

\---

The next half-hour or so rolled by as the gathered spoke at length about whatever came to mind.  No more candidates arrived in that time; however, the storm had largely subsided, making the path to their first checkpoint clear.

"Well, no sense in burning more daylight.  Time to get moving!"

With that they were off once more, crossing through hills and valleys of dust and sand.  A short walk out, however, they came to an odd discovery - what appeared to be a large pile of dusty rags on the roadside.

"What in the world...?"

"It's just a pile of rags.  Probably dropped by a stray caravan or something."

"Wrong!" an unfamiliar voice spoke from beneath them.  The gathered drew their weapons in reflex as the bundle of cloth beneath them neatly unfolded, revealing a person within.

A young woman, dressed in loudly-colored and rather dusty clothing, to be precise.  Her makeshift "shelter" had been comprised of two large scarves now wrapped about her, having shrunken to a fraction their former size.  She stood, brushed some lingering dust off herself, then continued.

"To be precise, I dropped from the sky after being launched from a springboard, flew several miles carried on the wind, and landed here.  These are fine clothes from Taggart Atelier, and I would be that company's current top shareholder, Linda Silver.  Seamstress and Huntress-to-be."

"You're... taking part in the exam?" asked Mint.

"Sure am.  Speaking of, I'm still in need of a partner."  she took a quick count.  "But I'm guessing all of you have one already."

"You would be correct." spoke Clodagh.  "Still, best stick with us.  It's dangerous out here alone."

A quick round of introductions followed.  With that out of the way, the strange young woman spoke up again.

"Next order of business, then.  How far are we from Vermilion?"

"We got a bit off-track in the storm, so it's a ways out.  About two miles from here." answered Mint.

"Stellar!  Let's get moving then."

The rest of the group moved one way, while she took a few steps in the other.

"Ah, one moment."

She stepped a short distance away before her scarves flapped rapidly like a hummingbird's wings, freeing a large cloud of dust from them that quickly blew away in the breeze.

"There.  Now we can go."

Strange day this was shaping up to be.

\---

It was getting to be mid-afternoon, the time when the day was at its hottest.  A few conversations broke out here and there among the group, but one among them just didn't have the energy for it.

Just a bit more... just a bit more... just a bit COMEONWHEREISITALREADYgrfgffgrr...

A shady cover came over him just as that thought passed Gaspard's mind.  Following it back to its source, he found Linda, her outstretched scarf serving as a sunshade.

"You're from the capital, but you're wilting in this heat." she smiled.

"It's kind of a long story." he replied.  "How do you manage?"

"Hm?"

"You're wearing at least three layers of wool and you're barely breaking a sweat."

"Custom-woven breathable clothing.  Specialty of the Taggart family.  Accept no less!"

He pointed up at the scarf quizzically.

"...Having a Semblance that lets me manipulate natural fibers certainly helps too."

Well, if she could do that, that would also explain how she flew on the winds for such a distance.

"Well, I've told you my secret.  What's your Semblance?"

"I... don't actually know yet." he admitted sheepishly.

"You don't?  I heard that was a prerequisite to even get in the running for a Hunters' school!"

"I thought so too, but I ended up getting accepted anyway.  I was actually pretty worried; I trained and trained in all sorts of different ways, but I never could never manage to tap into it.  Apparently Semblances come easier to some than others.  Guess I have some more catching up to do."

"Ah, don't worry.  We'll get you up to speed," Dirae interjected. "You'll be telling us to smash chairs on your back before you know it!"

"Is... that really a thing in Huntsman training?" Linda asked quietly.

"I can safely say I've never been hit with a chair, during training or otherwise." answered Gaspard.

"You haven't been to the Power Plant, then.  We'll have to pay them a visit sometime!" she laughed.

Gaspard sighed.  Nobody said becoming a Huntsman would be easy, but he probably had just a bit more work cut out for him than most with Dirae as his partner.

\---

Epsilon had adapted rather quickly to Vacuo's deserts.  It honestly wasn't too different from conditions in Atlas - harsh storms punctuated with low visibility and extreme temperatures.  The only real difference was that Atlas was too damned cold all the time while Vacuo was too damned hot _most_ of the time.  He stood out like a sore thumb in his armor, though, making him the center of attention both before and during this exam.

His partner was an odd one, too.  Barely four-foot-nine at a quick estimate, wielding a pair of collapsible bladed boomerangs which were almost as tall as she was.  Her mind was as sharp as her weapons, to boot - she'd had him pegged as a potential partner since yesterday, deducing from a glance that he was a "tech-head" and generally a more adept ranged fighter than herself.  Both were true.

Not to say that she was a slouch in a fight; she utilized a hand-to-hand art that resembled an elaborate dance much more than a fighting style.  It did its job, though, mowing down Grimm like blades of grass before a lawnmower.  She could even keep attacking with one blade in hand while she threw the other one to hit a distant foe, then catch it as it arced back and switch right back to a two-handed assault without ever missing a beat.  Epsilon certainly hadn't expected to see anything so beautiful in a country known as a den of thieves and bandits, let alone as a fighting art.

As they fought their way through weather and Grimm alike (a few dangerous ones, but nothing two trained fighters couldn't handle), they soon happened upon a familiar face to him.

"Epsilon?  Epsilon Rubine?  Is that you?"

"Hello, Marina."

He had little doubt she had aspirations to make fighting into a profession; she hadn't exactly been known for her academic records or keeping a cool head.  The fact that she now wore a suit of mechanical armor similar to his own was a surprise; probably built by her father, if he had to guess.

"I take it you're Atlesian too?" Cinna spoke.

"Yep.  Marina Raylight of House Raylight.  Maybe you've heard of my father, Theodore Raylight?"

"Hm... nope.  Doesn't ring a bell."

"Well, he built this armor you're looking at," she flexed, " and holds about fourteen other patents on the tech within it!"

"So where do you come in to that equation?"

"I'm here to give it a test run.  And root out a few crooks and terrorists while I'm at it." She pounded her gauntlets together at those words.

Not much about her had changed, it would seem.

"Well, not that it's easy to see anything out here, but have you seen anyone else around without a partner?"

"Nope.  You're the first other person we've encountered all day." answered Cinna.  "But you're welcome to stick with us until we find someone else."

"Sounds good to me.  I think I dropped my compass on the launch."

More likely you just didn't bring one, mused Epsilon.  Still, if she was half the fighter he remembered her being, she'd be a boon if they encountered any of Vacuo's bigger dangers.

\---

Mint's crew had managed to get back on track, arriving at Crocus as late afternoon fell.  Like most places in Vacuo, it was little more than a small oasis turned into a community and shelter from the elements using what little was available.  However, they were certainly in the right place - a small banner with Shade's insignia flew, and a few small groups of candidates lingered there, resting and planning their next moves.

"You've finally arrived." spoke a spindly, raven-haired woman flanked by two regal-looking guards.

"Are we the last group?" asked Mint, concerned.

"Relax, it's not a race.  Just claim your relic and make your way to the capital before night and you'll be fine.  But no, you're not last.  We're still short a few others."

She stepped behind a small table and spread roughly a dozen gold-backed cards across it.

"Each pair of two picks one card." she spoke.

Mint stepped up first, drawing one from the right side.  It showed a hooded man walking away from a stack of eight cups beneath a bright moon.

"Hm.  Okay then." she spoke.

Gaspard drew the next one, finding himself looking at a similarly cryptic scene: three men in what appeared to be a cathedral, seemingly discussing a scroll one of them carried.  Above them sat three circular insignias; carvings upon a pillar.

"I don't get it."

Dirae took a look.  "Oh!  I've seen these.  Tarot cards.  They're supposed to tell the future, or something."

"You can read these?" asked Gaspard.

"Nah.  I knew someone who was really into them, though.  Used to tell peoples' fortunes for a bit of extra money."

"I doubt there's any relevance to the test in them." interjected Clodagh.  "They're just an arbitrary objective."

No fun at all, Dirae mused.

"Well, in any case, that takes care of us.  But Linda still needs a partner." Mint raised her voice to a shout.  "Does anyone else here not have a partner yet?"

Nobody from the gathered stepped forward.

"Hm.  Want to wait a bit, see if they show?"

\---

About half a mile from their checkpoint, the three encountered another obstacle.  A small fleet of trucks on the horizon, seemingly keeping guard over the path to their goal.

"Slavers." Cinna assessed through her binoculars.  "The worst of Vacuo trash."

"But why are they here?" asked Marina.

"Preying on other candidates, most likely.  They get some dirty money and eliminate future threats.  Two birds with one stone."  Cinna responded.

"How on earth did they get into the test area?" Epsilon asked, assessing the situation for himself.

"Shade may be the law of the kingdom, but they can't watch the whole desert." Cinna replied.  "Still, pretty bold of them to operate so close to the capital."

"Or just plain stupid." Marina chimed.  "What say we just take them out ourselves?"

"They outnumber us at least six to one, Marina."  answered Epsilon.  "And they have trucks."

"They could have rogue Hunters with them, too." Cinna followed up.  "One of those could wipe the floor with all of us on their own.  If you don't want to spend the rest of your days chained up in some creep's desert shack, we stay out of their sight."

"Wait, what are they doing?" Epsilon said as the distant figures took a turn for a small oasis set into a distant hillside.

"Oh no... they're going after Crocus."

"Our objective?!"

\---

Crocus quickly found itself enveloped in chaos as a slaver band rode in on gun-armed vehicles,  opening fire at anyone they judged to be a threat.

"I'd hoped to save this until your formal training", spoke the raven-haired woman as they took refuge behind a small building, "but we're facing slavers.  From the looks of their weapons, they've already killed Hunters."

"So what do we do?" asked one student.

"The only thing we can -- fight." a telltale glow of Semblance erupted from her body as four large, spectral arms appeared around her, each drawing a dagger from her belt.

"Pick your battles, use cover to your advantage, and try to separate them." she instructed.  "And don't hesitate to go for a kill shot - slavers know no quarter, so neither should you."

Her two guards similarly readied their weapons as an armed group rounded the corner, quickly being met by a barrage of thrown knives and gunfire.  Those left tentatively readied their weapons, ready to fight to the last if need be.

\---

Gaspard had managed to stop one of their trucks moments earlier, firing a stone shell just in front as it approached and forcing it into a desperate last-second swerve that left it on its side.  The rest of Mint's group now found themselves in a hand-to-hand battle.

"You know what they say - the bigger the pack, the weaker the wolves!" Dirae shouted, knocking over a thug with a massive kick before meeting another one's blade with her axe.  Mint used her extraordinary speed to her advantage, taking out a few of them at the knees, whilst Clodagh utilized well-aimed crossbow bolts to suppress her foes at a distance.  Even Gaspard managed to hold his own, parrying with his blades and countering with well-placed thrusts; despite his inexperience, he wasn't squeamish about spilling blood, Mint had noted.

Linda's fighting style, to be blunt, was nothing short of eerie.  She used her scarves as enormous, stretching limbs to pulverize her foes.  More disturbingly, she could extend her ability to stretch cloth to her opponents themselves, causing them agonizing pain as she contorted their bodies.  It seemed to leave no lasting harm - they would inevitably snap back to their normal shape as soon as she released them - but it was still a disturbing sight to behold, making them all the more hesitant to press their attacks.

A few other prospective Hunters had joined in the fray only a few minutes in; presumably the few stragglers who hadn't yet arrived.  Scything blades flew through the air, cutting down two more of the slavers, whilst two more in armor engaged the group as well - one charging in and throwing high-powered punches that sent them flying, while another preferred to lay down fire from a distance from arm-mounted cannons.

"That's far enough!" a voice boomed over the clearing they were in as a booming shot rang out, causing the entire square to erupt in flames.  His quarry now disoriented and weakened by the blast, he stepped out over the edge of the building.

Above them stood a grizzled and scarred man, flanked by several more slavers.

"Think you're all invincible.  That you're going to save the world.  Well, those dreams die today, kiddos."  He leapt down, landing near a dropped weapon - Gaspard's.

"So you're the one responsible for that little trick that flipped my truck.  Well, you're going to repay me now - with interest." he spun the cylinder to a yellow-tinted shell and fired it at Gaspard, an electrical storm erupting from the point of impact and causing him to howl in pain as the last of his aura crackled, then vanished.

The leader closed in on Gaspard, intending to kill him by his own sword.  Gaspard, acting quickly through a haze of pain, drew his other weapon and fired the shell housed in it, causing a blast of fire to fly toward the man; he simply spun the weapon's cylinder to another shell and fired, causing a whipping whirlwind to erupt from the barrel and dispel the attack.

"You're not the only one who knows how to use Dust, kid.  A lesson you learned too late."

Heavy footfalls and a thunderous shriek of fury came somewhere from his right.  "Dirae, don't!" Gaspard shouted over to the charging giantess as she closed on the leader.

A few henchmen's gunshots impacted against her aura as she continued her charge, killing intent in her eyes.  The leader turned Gaspard's weapon on her, spinning to a red shell.  Gaspard's eyes went wide.

"NO!" he shouted as a red shell rang forth, bursting into an enormous fireball mid-flight.

To the collective shock of everyone involved, though, Dirae erupted from a cloud of smoke moments later, none the worse for wear.  Not even breaking stride from the shot, she leapt forward and caught him in a hard tackle, carrying him into a narrow alley before dropping him hard to the ground.  Capitalizing on the diversion, the others fired their weapons at those on the nearby rooftops, buying Mint and Clodagh a few seconds to see to their injured comrade.

"I'm alright," Gaspard spoke, still in obvious pain.  "Help Dirae.  She took a fire shell."

"Hey, don't worry about me." she appeared in the alley behind them, covered in soot and dust, knuckles caked with fresh blood, but otherwise seemingly no worse off.

"How--"

"Dust-negating Semblance.  Boy, was that asshole surprised!" she laughed.

Gaspard breathed a sigh of relief.  "Well, you sure showed him."

"Yeah.  He won't be doing any more slaver runs, that's for sure." she returned Gaspard's saber.  "Now what say we give the rest of this slaver trash the dirt nap?"

Gaspard loaded another shell into his dagger, containing a deep-black Dust this time.

"Sounds good to me."

Another shot rang out, coating the nearby rooftops in a thick black smoke and blinding their attackers as the rest leapt into action.

\---

"Mint Clovis.  Gaspard Rhodonite.  Dirae Myosotis.  Clodagh Lapis.  The four of you will form Team CRML, led by Mint Clovis."

Cheers erupted from the gathered as Mint released a joyous cheer, catching her partner in a crushing hug (which Clodagh was none too appreciative of, going stiff as a board on contact).  Gaspard struggled to suppress a laugh at the sight; Dirae made no such effort.

"Cinna Teal.  Epsilon Rubine.  Linda Silver.  Marina Raylight.  The four of you will form team TRSR, led by Cinna Teal."

Cinna was more reserved, showing a touch of surprise and shock at being appointed as her team's leader, though that quickly fell away as the rest of her teammates were swept up in the energy of the moment.

Not that one could blame them.  After all, they, as part of a group of just over a dozen, had taken down a prominent group of slavers without losing any of their own.  A few injuries had resulted, but nothing a few hours of Aura-enhanced healing couldn't take care of.  Not only that, they'd managed to make it to Shade in time.  Then again, commandeering a slaver truck (after Dirae and a few others had flipped it back onto its wheels) had made that part easy.

As they left the auditorium amidst a wave of excited talk and cheers, the dark-haired instructor they'd fought alongside waited before them.

"Congratulations, new students.  You have a bright future ahead of you here at Shade.  But before that, I believe this is yours."

She handed over a small envelope to TRSR and CRML's leaders.  Looking inside revealed a sizable amount of Lien.

"...What's this for?" asked Mint.

"The bounty on that slaver band you took down."

"I... _we_ can't accept this." Mint said.

"As students, no, you can't.  However, as freelance bounty hunters, you can.  And you weren't students when they were turned in."

"What about the people of Crocus?" asked Mint, still hesitant.

"I'll donate my cut to helping them rebuild.  Maybe we'll make it a class field trip.  Now please, I insist."

Mint finally took the envelope from her.

"Thank you.  Enjoy your last night of freedom, and don't forget: class starts at 9:00 AM tomorrow!" she walked away.

She turned back to her new team.

"Steak?" asked Dirae.

"Steak." they answered in unison.

Of course.  Well, she knew a good place with a vegetarian option, at least.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took a long time to finish, but I'm glad I did. Team TRSR kind of got shafted for show time, but the chapter was running pretty long as it was, so I ended up cutting a pretty significant portion of what I had planned for them. Hopefully I made up for that a bit in later chapters.


	2. One Week In

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gaspard has second thoughts about this whole Huntsman thing.

It had been a week since team CRML had been formed.  Their dorm room was fairly basic - little more than a crash pad, really.  Still, it had a few amenities that most places in Vacuo didn't.  Indoor plumbing was definitely a plus, and having a house fan kept it from getting too muggy in the late afternoon.  It had a nice view over the capital city as well, complete with a small balcony they sometimes visited during nighttime.  
  
But while most of them took to their new roles rather well, Gaspard was still caught in an odd middle ground, half in disbelief that he'd actually made it this far and half wondering how anyone managed to keep up on all this new responsibility.   He did fine when it came to classwork - he always had a talent for problem solving - but physical training quickly saw him outclassed.  He had to work himself up from invalid to basically superhuman on the path to becoming a Huntsman, and while he had come a long way since his start, he clearly wasn't there yet.  An impressive losing streak and recommendation for remedial class stood as evidence of that.  
  
Probably not aiding matters was that he was so often compared to his partner.  Dirae was an absolutely amazing athlete; startlingly agile despite her enormous size, and her impressive strength let her overpower almost anyone in a sparring match in very short order.  Her Semblance only complemented that by letting her negate Dust-based attacks, ensuring that anyone she fought against had to face her on even terms (well, as evenly as anyone could face a lightning-fast giantess).  She certainly made him, a scrawny guy without any mastery of Semblance, look terrible by comparison.  
  
In spite of all that, it was Dirae that had let him feel the most at ease in Team CRML.  He honestly wasn't sure what she saw in him, but she had been nothing but understanding and patient when it came to physical training.  She had even helped adapt a training regimen that would let him gain some bulk while keeping his "lean speed"; something he'd need as a fencer.  But there was still one lingering doubt:  
  
"What was that about a chair?"  
  
"When you can take a chair to the spine and not fall over, that's when you're a real fighter!" punctuated with a laugh and a shoulder clap.  
  
He still didn't know whether it was a joke, and hadn't yet worked up the courage to ask.  
  
Mint stood on the other end of that equation.  Not long after they'd settled in, she'd revealed her grandiose scheme to them.  
  
"We're going to be Vacuo's shining beacons!"  
  
She hadn't just meant as Hunters, either.  
  
"Something larger than life that everyone can aspire to."  
  
"So... like superheroes?"  
  
"Better!  We'll be paragons of justice - not just a fun fantasy, but a reality for the people of Vacuo to be inspired by and aspire to.  Team CRML will be the ones to pull Vacuo out of this dark age of self-serving violence!"  
  
It sounded like something out of a comic book, but she was very serious about it, even admitting that she'd had an eye out for the most atypical, "heroic" candidates she could find before the entrance exam.  Which just left him wondering if he fit in or was just excess baggage that came with Dirae.  She hadn't said anything disparaging him, of course, but it was clear that his leader had high expectations of him, and he couldn't help but feel he was falling short.  
  
And then there was... Clodagh.  She was unquestionably interesting, but not a very easy person to talk to.  She'd thus far made no attempt at finding any common ground with him; in fact, she never went out of her way to speak to him (or anybody, really) at all.  When she did have something to say, her words were inevitably blunt and to-the-point, as though speaking was only something she did out of necessity, before slipping right back into a book (how she managed to read without sight was still a puzzle to him).  She did seem to hit it off well with Mint, at least, but his relationship with Clodagh was still one of casual avoidance.  
  
Gaspard came back to the room one evening after remediation only to find it completely empty.  Even Clodagh was out (he flicked on the light to make sure - sometimes she would read in the dark, only further adding to that mystery) but there was a small, folded piece of paper sitting on the stand near his bed.  
  
9:00 PM tonight at the fairgrounds.  Don't be late! - D  
  
A ticket was enclosed as well, though it betrayed little of what event was going on.  
  
It wasn't exactly a hard place to find, as it dominated a pretty large portion of the city's edge.  He'd seen it plenty of times in another, mostly-bedridden life, when he could occasionally sneak up to the roof of the hospital and take in some fresh air for a little while before his absence became conspicuous.  Anything to get away from empty white walls and the constant smell of antiseptic, even if only for a few minutes.  
  
That in turn reminded him that a few of his friends were still stuck there, and he'd not yet had a chance to stop by or even write them since his return to the capital.  He'd have to do that when he caught some free time, though he had no real idea when that would be.  
  
\---  
  
He'd made it in just before the show's start time, with Dirae nowhere in sight.  
  
As he continued to search the crowd, he felt his scroll vibrate.  
  
_Enjoy the show!_  


  
_  
_

"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to tonight's entertainment!" a voice boomed over some speakers at the far end of the grounds. He had to rush over to meet it, but still saw no sign of his partner.

"Sunset is proud to bring you the fiercest combatants the world of Remnant has ever seen! Beginning tonight's show, we bring you a very special match.  In this corner, the fearsome beast-woman from parts unknown.  The exotic, the deadly... Pink!  Tiger!"

Punctuating his words, a flash of pink leapt - nay, erupted - from beneath the canvas of the ring behind the MC, landing with a flourish and a speaker-amplified growl.  A large, powerfully-built woman in a pink catsuit and mask, to be precise.  She continued to play up the part with more animalistic growls and posturing, earning a vocal rise from the gathered audience.

"And in this corner, the desert beauty hailing from gorgeous southern Vacuo.  The beautiful and exotic, the rare and mighty... Great Morpho!"

A row of spotlights lit at the end of a lengthy runway leading to the ring, bathing it in a deep blue light.  From behind a screen there, a black silhouette of a butterfly appeared to the tune of some gentle music.  That all quickly came to end as a harsh guitar riff ripped through and an enormous figure burst through the screen, charging toward the ring at high speed to a hard rock tune.  Then, with a graceful leap, they leapt over the ropes, landed in the ring with a roll and rose again in one smooth motion, thunderous cheers accompanying the following flourish.

Yep.  That was Dirae.

She was wearing a bright blue leotard and a butterfly mask that concealed most of her face, but there was no mistaking the rest.  Six-foot-eight, built like a tank and taking full advantage of being the woman of the hour, getting a rise out of her audience as much as she could.

With a ring of the bell, their match began, and what a spectacle it was.  Whatever they were doing wasn't based on any kind of fighting style he was familiar with -grapples, throws and acrobatic dodges aplenty, punctuated with the occasional chop or choke hold.  It was clearly being played up for theatrics as they would take hard falls (even through a ringside table at one point) and quickly bounce back into the fight, none the worse for wear.  The audience seemed to love it, at least.

After a protracted mock battle, a mighty boot from ~~Dirae~~ Morpho stunned the Tiger, who proceeded to climb the turnbuckle and, with a flourished elbow drop, knocked the Tiger down for a pin.  A few cheers erupted from the crowd as she stood back up, punctuating them all with her own, thunderous addition.

"WOOOOOOO!!!!"

Gaspard couldn't help but chuckle.  She was very good at being the center of attention.  He sent a text as she walked back up the runway, continuing to pump up the crowd all the while.

As the next match began, his scroll buzzed again.

_Meet you at Gringolet in 45?_

\---

A quiet little restaurant nearby, Gringolet was also a bit of a hideaway for team CRML; they'd already come here on one occasion after class, which was where Mint had revealed her big plans for the team to them.

Dirae showed up after a short wait, meeting Gaspard at his table.

"Well, you know my secret now." she said.

"Moonlighting as a superhero, eh?" he replied  "Well, I guess you're cut out for our fearless leader's big plan after all."

She laughed.  "Yeah.  What are the odds that a show fighter would end up in just the right team for that?  Was expecting I'd leave that behind when I signed up for this Huntress stuff."

He thought back to what she said on the initiation day.

"Wait, so Burdock was--"

"Yep.  She taught me how to put on a show.  And how to bulk up."

"So... what led you to the Hunter life?"

"You need to learn to fight to survive in the desert.  But it was mostly my sister's idea.  Said I could put my talents to better use fighting the bad guys for real, not just on stage.  I told a few of my friends about it, and they got on board too.  So I made myself a weapon, signed up for the entrance exam and, well, here I am."

Not even any formal Hunter training.  He wasn't sure if that was supposed to make him feel better or worse, at least until she continued.

"I  just wanted to show you that you're not the only one who's new to this Hunter stuff.  If a clown like me can make it at Shade, you can too.  So don't feel bad that you're not doing so great at first - we'll get you up to speed and become the best damn team Shade has ever had."

Boy, could she read a room.  Guess it came with the showmanship.  He chuckled.

"...That said, can I get some help with Melange's class?  I can barely follow what he's even talking about half the time."

Well, now that he could do.  Suddenly this whole Shade thing felt like a good idea again.


	3. A roll of a cosmic die

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gaspard was kind of intended as the main character of this whole experiment, but I didn't want him to become too angsty, so I added some humor bit at the end. I try to make his sense of humor shine through a bit more in later chapters too.

Six weeks had passed since  the beginning of Team CRML's enrollment at Shade, and they had taken pretty well to their new accommodations.  
  
Gaspard was finally starting to get used to life as a Huntsman-in-training.  Nobody said it would be easy, of course, but he had grown accustomed to the kind of high-intensity combat training and study it had entailed.  He'd still had yet to win a sparring match, but he was making considerable strides in not letting his physical deficiencies be as much of a detriment, and he'd managed to land a few solid blows, so he considered that a small victory.  
  
Then there was his team.  Mint was still intent on making them Vacuo's shining beacons, which she reasoned they couldn't do if they were still barely on speaking terms.  So, about ten days in, he and the others had endured one of Mint's attempts to drive some team bonding by introducing them to one of her family's business ventures.  
  
The three of them had learned to make pickled onions that day.  
  
They'd also learned that none of them liked pickled onions in the slightest.  
  
The individual components were fine - vinegar, salt and the spice of onion all fit well into their own niches in cuisine - but together they coalesced into something quite unpleasant.  
  
Still, it had at least succeeded in building a bridge; the whole thing was made into a bit of an in-joke, becoming team CRML's new noun for something quite unpleasant.  It also led to the first time he'd ever heard Clodagh make a joke.  In history class, no less.  
  
"The biggest tragedy in Remant's history." spoke Afon.  
  
"The birth of the pickled onion." she'd mumbled, just loud enough for Gaspard to hear.  
  
He'd nearly laughed out loud at that statement, but managed to play it off as a sneeze at the last second.  Probably a good thing, as laughing during talk of an intercontinental war that claimed the largest death toll in the history of the world could be taken so very wrongly.  Still, he began to see Clodagh in a new light after that; not just as a haughty and emotionless stranger in his own team anymore.  
  
All in all, his first few weeks had gone pretty well.  
  
But this particular day, it was only after class that things started to go wrong.  
  
He had arrived early to remedial training, finding Professor Saffron absent.  Odd, as she was usually here long before he was.  He followed a distant voice to the office at the back of the gymnasium, soon revealed to be Saffron, on her scroll.  
  
"He still doesn't _know_ , Oran.  You never told him."  
  
His old master was on the phone with his instructor?  What was this about?  Thankfully, she had the volume up high enough to hear.  
  
"I couldn't be certain myself.  With a Semblance like that, it's hard to tell where chance ends and the power of the soul takes over."  
  
"So, was it charity that led you to train him, then?"  
  
"A kid who could be pushed over by a stiff breeze asking to become a Huntsman?  I thought he was just a vagrant out to steal from me, or at best pulling a prank.  I indulged him on a whim, thinking he'd give up within the first hour.  But he did everything I asked of him, and no matter how ridiculous it was or how much he struggled along the way, he never once complained.  Then one day became three.  Then a week.  Then he told me about his life and... well, I figured it had to be fate."  
  
"Or just exceptionally good fortune."  
  
"Or that.  Corvus was always talking about the balance between fortune and fate, and his interest in those who can exert control over it..."  
  
Gaspard ducked back behind the corner at that.  Was that his Semblance the whole time?  He was just... lucky?  
  
Everything he thought he'd known fell away very quickly as that thought crept deeper and deeper...  
  
\---  
  
Mint's scroll buzzed as she, Clodagh and Dirae headed to the library for a post-class study group.  She answered the call.  
  
"Hello?"  
  
"Clovis.  This is Professor Saffron.  Is Rhodonite with you?  He's hasn't come to remediation and isn't answering his scroll."  
  
"...No, he's not with us.  Last we saw of him, he was on his way to you."  
  
"He hasn't showed up.  I've got some people out looking for him."  
  
"...Right, we'll look too."  
  
The call ended shortly thereafter.  
  
"Our teammate is missing.  We're going to find him."  
  
\---  
  
Before long, a small group of school staff and a few assorted teams had joined in the search as well.  Every familiar haunt and obscure inch of both Shade Academy and Vacuo's capital was slowly but surely being examined.  
  
However, it was Linda Silver of team TRSR that eventually located him, on the top of an abandoned building some distance away from Shade, gazing into the distance.  
  
"Gaspard?"  
  
"Hi, Linda." he said, not bothering to face her.  
  
"Something on your mind?" she asked.  
  
"When you can't do much physically, you learn to appreciate the little things." he mumbled listlessly, still lost in thought.  "Like sneaking up to the roof and just listening to the wind whip through the streets for a while, exploring all the places you can't."  
  
She puzzled over that one for a bit.  "Still down about having to do extra PT, huh?"  
  
He blinked, seemingly finally acknowledging her presence in full and realizing what he'd just said.  
  
"...Sorry, I know that didn't make much sense.  But no, it's not that."  
  
"What's up, then?  Your team's running circles around the city looking for you."  
  
He paused for a moment.  "I... found out what my Semblance is."  
  
"Really?  That's great!"  
  
"No.  I thought I'd be happy when I found it, but... it's basically calling my entire life into question.  It's... well... I'm... _lucky._ "  the last word was strained; almost inaudible.  
  
"You're... lucky?  Like, you always win at Blackjack or something?"  
  
"I have won more than my share of poker games, but that's just a part of it.  It explains almost every key part of my life.  I told you how I was really sick as a kid, right?"  
  
She thought back to his story during the post-initiation celebrations.  "Yeah..."  
  
"My chances of survival were around twenty percent, but here I am.  Alive when so many others died."  
  
"A lot of them lived, too."  she replied.  Twenty percent was hardly zero.  It wasn't *great* odds, but one in five lived.  
  
"It's not just that, either.  Oran taking me in was part of it too; he figured out my Semblance well before I did, and from what I learned, probably only kept training me because of it. And..."  
  
Gulp.  Shiver.  
  
She waited for him to continue, not wanting to push him into an even darker place.  After a few seconds, he finally seemed to work up the courage to speak again.  
  
"I haven't told my team this, but... I'm a foundling.  I was abandoned in the desert as a baby and taken in by the Rhodonites.  Would... I even be alive if not for... my... luck?  Did they just find me because of that?  Or did they know, and only adopt me because of it?"  he blinked back tears at the idea.  
  
"Hey, now, that's dangerous thinking." Linda spoke.  
  
"I can't help it.  My whole world's upside-down right now.  Everything I thought I knew..."  
  
She thought for a second.  "Well... I don't have an easy answer.  I doubt anyone does.  Luck is a really bizarre, fickle thing.  But there is one thing I know."  
  
He turned to look her in the eye, desperate to find some order in the madness his life had become.  
  
"When you're all out of leads and desperate for answers, it's time for pie."  
  
She was either mocking him, or it was a very bad attempt at a joke.  
  
"Pie?" he asked incredulously.  
  
"Totally serious.  Secret of the universe."  Not a hint of irony on her face.  
  
He still could barely parse the thought.  It sounded completely ridiculous, like the fevered rambling of a technicolor-swaddled loon.  
  
Then again, so did his autobiography, so who the hell was he to judge.  
  
"Couldn't hurt, I suppose."  
  
Well, she'd gotten him to take a step back toward the light.  Maybe there was some method to this madness after all.  
  
\---  
  
Mint and Clodagh had taken to exploring east of Shade, Mint looking from the rooftops owing to her Semblance and Clodagh keeping the proverbial ear to the ground.  
  
It was almost impossible to pick out a lone voice in a huge crowd, but when super-hearing came with your repertoire of abilities, filtering information quickly became an essential part of life.  She'd further trained herself to memorize familiar voices and details about people, as not learning them by sight meant one had to find other means.  
  
Which meant that if they were anywhere nearby, she'd probably find them sooner or later if they did anything she recognized as familiar.  
  
Wait.  There it was.  She caught a few syllables of Silver talking to somebody.  She was one of the few who'd gone to search alone; her general weirdness, paired with name recognition, ensured she likely wouldn't be disturbed by anyone of ill intent.  And those foolish enough to try wouldn't again after a few seconds of exposure to her Semblance.  
  
So who was she talking to?  
  
Ah, it was her teammate.  A bit more downtrodden-sounding than usual, but it was unmistakably him.  
  
Mint would be along in a moment, having set her scroll to track her partner's so that they could keep tabs on one another.  For now, she followed that voice, eventually coming to a small diner.  
  
\---  
  
"No beggars." the woman behind the counter said as the door opened, sighting a blindfolded young woman out of the corner of her eye.  
  
"I'm no beggar." Clodagh replied.  "But thank you for your kind words and hospitality."  
  
That dry snark was unmistakable.  He supposed it was only a matter of time before somebody else happened across him.  "Hey, Clodagh." spoke Gaspard.  
  
"Hello." she spoke, taking the seat next to Linda.  The proprietor hadn't pursued the matter, so she figured she was no longer in danger of being forcibly shown the door.  
  
"So, what brings our most studious of teammates to ditch remediation?"  
  
Just when he'd gotten his mind off that topic for a bit in idle conversation, here came the blunt one to drag him back.  Meh.  
  
"Bit of an existential crisis, actually."  
  
She waited for him to continue.  
  
"I found out what my Semblance is.   It's... I'm... well, lucky.  Things just go well for me."  
  
"And that's a bad thing?" she asked.  
  
"It's turning my entire worldview upside-down.  I probably wouldn't even be alive if not for it, let alone enrolled at Shade."  
  
"They don't just flip a coin and let you in on heads, you know." she replied wryly.  "You earned your right to be here.  We all did."  
  
"But I wouldn't have been trained for it in the first place.  Oran... he kept me on because he learned about my past.  How I overcame the odds and lived in spite of everything.  Thought I might have some kind of... rare Semblance they wanted to study.  More and more, I'm thinking he was right."  
  
She was about to say something, but he continued.  
  
"Don't you see?  I'm clearly not up to snuff physically.  They only admitted me because I'm lucky!  That's completely unfair to all of you.  I wanted to prove I can do this because I worked for it, not because of a roll of some... cosmic die."  
  
Clodagh thought for a moment about that.  He certainly had lived a much more fortunate life than she had, and she'd let her jealousy slip out on a couple of occasions.  But he'd had his share of tragedies and misfortunes as well.  Maybe not as _many_ , but they were there.  
  
Finally, she spoke.  
  
"It's like Mint said: We're all lucky to be here to some degree.  Whether it's just circumstance or we had to fight every step of the way, we got accepted, we passed the test, and now we're all here alive, well and relatively sane.  Or was that two years of training you did for nothing?"  
  
It certainly wasn't.  He'd  dedicated heart, body and soul to it to the exclusion of everything else in his life.  But how much did it mean in the end?  
  
Clodagh continued, seemingly reading his thoughts once again.  
  
"My point is this: spend too much time thinking about what could have been or should have been, and you'll always end up doing something you regret.  Doubts and regrets are the most malignant of things.  The best thing you can do with one is to leave it behind - show it that it will never control you or stand in your way again.  So keep moving forward.  Show them all you're more than just a guy who won a roll on Fortuna's die.  If you can do that, I'll be behind you every step of the way."  
  
"Aw.. Clody!  I knew you had some niceness in you!" Linda chimed in, a smile on her face.  
  
"Don't call me Clody." Aaaand right back to the bluntness.  
  
But still, those words hit home.  All that training wasn't worthless.  If he wasn't here because he earned it, he was damn sure going to now.  He refused to let himself be defined - nay, labeled - by some abstract force, even if it was his Semblance.  
  
"I don't deserve you guys." he spoke, blinking back a tear.  
  
"Maybe not." Clodagh spoke.  "But you've got us anyway."  
  
"Told you the pie thing would work." Linda grinned.  
  
He laughed.  Sometimes the most profound wisdom came in the most ridiculous of packages.  
  
\---  
  
"Rhodonite?  Where have you been?" came Saffron's voice, tinged with both concern and sharp disappointment.  
  
"Taking a teenage angst day.  Can you let it slide just this once?"  
  
"...Fine, but you're making this up to me tomorrow afternoon."  
  
"Deal."  
  
He wasn't looking forward to that conversation.  But with that, he ended the call, pocketed his scroll, and rejoined the revelry with the rest of teams CRML and TRSR, who had convened at a local club.  Marina was in the middle of a buzzed ramble; the benefits of having rather lax drinking age laws.  
  
"At least you guys don't have the luddites.  I mean, the Hand of Hephaestus is a bunch of anti-tech nutjobs up in Atlas, right?  But every time they came after my dad, they were shooting at us with pulse rifles.  What a bunch of hypocrites."  
  
"And how, pray tell, did you deal with them?" asked Epsilon, ever unimpressed with his teammate's boasting.  
  
She clearly didn't pick up on it.  
  
"That's the best part!  They were even in a Bullhead.  So I just chucked a barrel into their engine and watched 'em go down in a lake.  Right through four inches of ice. Taste of your own natural medicine, you schmucks!" she laughed at the memory.  
  
Dirae joined in the revelry.  "Yeah.  But you haven't lived until you've knocked a speeding biker gang's motorcade over like a bunch of bowling pins.  That sound... it's divine."  
  
"Ha!  I'll have to try that."  
  
Gaspard was just enjoying the talk of adventures his friends had had, wondering when it would be his turn to join them as an equal.  And whether he'd be up to it after all...  
  
No.  No.  Enough existential angst for one day.  Where did Clodagh and Mint go, anyway?  
  
A small stage at the far end of the room lit up, with Clodagh emerging, microphone in hand.  Mint stood behind her, manning a small machine.  
  
Oh no.  What was this...  
  
"Attention, friends and teammates."  Clodagh's amplified voice boomed through the room.  "I may not be the most talkative or sociable of us, but that doesn't mean I don't care.  So, as an introvert of many talents, allow me to build a bridge by sharing one of mine."  
  
How much had she had to drink.  And why was Mint encouraging this...  
  
A slow tune began to play.  Clodagh began to sing.  
  
_Your fingertips moving gently to my heart_  
_the force of life goes on and on_  
_the song remains, like a haunting melody_  
_of angel music held in chains_  
_and I ask you: Can we ease the pain of those who lost?_  
_Can we know the cause of all this sorrow?_  
_Can we catch the tears of a broken world_  
_falling down upon the earth, falling down..._  
  
And sing _damn well_.  She could easily be pursuing a musical career instead of this whole life-and-death Huntress stuff.  All eyes present were in rapt awe at the show before them.  
  
The room fell silent for a moment as the song ended before clapping and cheers emerged from the gallery.  She returned to her seat shortly thereafter, Mint at her side.  
  
"Amazing!"  
"That's incredible, Clodagh."  
"You should sing more often!"  
  
Gaspard tapped Dirae's shoulder.  
  
"I just had an amazing idea."  
  
\---  
  
After the frenzy of cheers and questions following the first song had died down, Gaspard and Dirae had taken the stage.  
  
"This one is dedicated to some people I'm entirely too lucky to know, but whom I wouldn't trade for anything in the world.  You all know who you are."  
  
An upbeat guitar riff rang out as Gaspard began to sing, backed by Dirae.  Nowhere near as well as Clodagh, obviously, but he didn't seem to care.  
_  
_  
_You can fly if you try leaving the past behind  
Heaven only knows what you might find  
Dare! Dare to believe you can survive!  
You hold the future in your hand!  
Dare! Dare to keep all your dreams alive  
It's time to take a stand  
You can win, if you dare!_  
  
Mint laughed joyfully at the sight, proud to have inspired such madness.  But prouder to have reignited her teammates' passion.  Even Clodagh managed a smile; a rare sight for her.  
  
The music died down as more cheers rang out.  
  
"You're into some true vintage cheese, Rhodonite." Dirae laughed.  "I haven't heard that song in years."  
  
"Well, when your life's routine is sadness and frustration, something uplifting and silly can really brighten your outlook."  
  
\---  
  
"Encore!  Encore!" cheered the two gathered teams.  
  
Gaspard laughed as Dirae queued up another song.  She'd already caught him listening to it once before.  
  
_Marconi plays the mambo_  
_Listen to the radio_  
_Don't you remember?  We built this city_  
_We built this city on rock and rooooooll!_  
_  
_  
"Oh lord."


	4. A leap of faith (and a short omake)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Because every story needs an awkward yuri moment.

How did she get talked into this so easily?  
  
Here she was, about to reveal her shame to someone she'd known for barely an hour.  
  
Well, she could at least justify it as a test; seeing whether her stated dream was a truth, or just a swindle by another bigoted liar.  The kind she'd been lured in by too many times to even count.  But what was one more on top of that, right?  
  
So, here went nothing.  
  
The blindfold came away and they slowly fluttered open.  Eyes that were the palest of blue, like the skyline on the edge of the sea.  Far too light to be a natural shade, Mint knew.  But one thing about them was undeniable.  
  
Mint took her partner's hands in her own, even as they continued to grip the blindfold.  Clodagh flinched slightly at the contact.  
  
"They're beautiful."  
  
Clodagh seemed awestruck at those words, failing to respond for a few seconds.  
  
"Do you really mean it?"  she asked at last.  
  
"Absolutely."  
  
She had little experience reading faces, but she'd learned to spot a lie in other ways.  She felt Mint's pulse in her thumbs, looking for a telltale spike that would betray her words, but found none.  
  
Clodagh blushed, averting her gaze momentarily.  
  
"You're the only one who's ever told me my eyes are beautiful."  
  
Mint blinked.  "Really?  I'd share that color with the world if I could.  At a premium, of course."  
  
This girl was a flatterer for sure.  Still, that didn't stop Clodagh from letting out some long-bottled thoughts.  And so, for the first time in many years, she told someone the truth about her eyes.  
  
"Blue eyes are a burden in the desert.  I was never allowed to forget that.  After all, if I couldn't even bear daylight, then what good was I?  So... I hid them away.  Learned to use my other senses in their place.  They were my shame; the one weakness that I could never overcome."  
  
"Clody..." Mint's expression fell at those words.  
  
Clodagh stopped for a moment, seemingly considering whether to say more.  Finally, she settled on some words.  
  
"But... it's alright.  I don't need my eyes to fight, but I won't view them as a burden anymore.  I'll use them to see the beauty in the world, when and wherever I find it."  
  
Now it was Mint's turn to blush.  
  
"I'll endeavor to make Vacuo a place worthy of your eyes."  
  
Damn it, why did she have to be so charming?  
  
"Thank you."  Clodagh managed a smile for the first time in a long while.  "Just... keep this between us for now.  Others have been less than understanding about my condition."  
  
"Of course.  They'll know when you're ready to tell them."  
  
\---  
  
"Oh, honestly.  I'm an athletic woman.  I know all the stereotypes and rumors, and trust me, they're greatly exaggerated.  There's plenty of love for the boys among strong women."  
  
She'd stopped paying attention for a moment and now regretted it.  How had the conversation turned to this topic?  
  
"Now our sharpshooter, Tin Lizzie, _she's_ as gay as springtime!"  Dirae chuckled.  "But she can also put a bullet in your nostril from 400 yards off, so nobody ever gave her shit for it."  
  
Oh no.  
  
"But even if she couldn't, I'd break anyone's thumbs if they tried."  
  
Don't bring out the damn hammer don't bring out the damn hammer don't bring--  
  
"You mess with MY ladies, I bring The Fury!"  
  
Dirae sported a wide grin, then produced a weathered claw hammer from her belt, the words "The Fury" crudely engraved on the side.  
  
That was the first time team CRML had witnessed a Clodagh face-palm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly, I mostly just wrote this because I thought up the omake at work and it made me chuckle.


	5. Mocking the madness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Being a survivor isn't always easy.

Gaspard awoke with a start, a cold sweat only biting more as he threw the sheets off, exposing himself to the night air.  
  
That damn dream again.  
  
Well, not exactly a dream.  More of a flashback, really.  An event from his past that had shaken him to his core. It never failed to unnerve him every time it crept back into this thoughts.  Usually while alone, late at night, and especially when he had much to do the following day.  
  
For someone whose Semblance was exceptional luck, he sure seemed to get a bad deal at times.  
  
Well, he figured, there's no sense in sitting in bed when you're high on nightmare adrenaline and have an awful case of dry mouth, so he retrieved a glass, got up and quietly cracked the bathroom door to get some water from the sink.  He downed a large gulp, desperate for some relief from the torrent of emotions assaulting him.  
  
Urgh.  It wasn't enough.  The air in the room was stifling and the sun wasn't up for another few hours, so nothing was open yet.  No place he cared to be at 3 AM, anyway.  Still, he needed some fresh air.  Quietly sliding the balcony door open, he stepped out onto it and sat in one of the deck chairs, trying to calm himself so he could get back to his much-needed rest.  
  
\---  
  
Mint awoke to a dark, rather muggy room.  
  
Urgh.  What time is it.  ...Too damn early.  Why am I even awake--  
  
She froze and snapped to attention immediately at the sight of someone on the balcony.  Moving slowly to not lose the element of surprise, she began to reach for a concealed dagger kept under her pillow (a life lesson from her father - never be without a weapon in arm's reach, danger is everywhere after all).  However, the figure then turned slightly and caught the city lights below, revealing a light pink head of hair.  She breathed a sigh of relief.  
  
It's just Gaspard.  What's he doing outside?  
  
She walked over to the door, opening it slowly so as not to disturb the others, before stepping out.  
  
He turned to the sound of the door sliding open.  "Hey, Mint."  
  
"Hey.  Couldn't sleep?" she asked, beginning to lapse back into grogginess herself.  
  
"Nah, I was... I just..." he exhaled.  
  
No sense in lying about it.  
  
"I had a nightmare.  It has me pretty rattled."  
  
"Anything you care to talk about?  It might help."  
  
He thought for a second.  It was childish, he knew, but even just some venting could ease his mind a bit.  He was already losing sleep over it, so why not.  He set down his glass and took a deep breath.  
  
"When I was thirteen, I was at my lowest point.  It was looking more and more like I wouldn't make it to fourteen.  And one night... I nearly went.  
  
"I woke up super late, around this time.  I felt horrible, but was too weak to move. Couldn't even make a sound.  I panicked.  Then there was a flatline, and - I swear, I distinctly remember this - the next thing I knew, I was up on the ceiling looking down on my body, seeing the doctors rushing in, desperately trying to save me.  
  
"All I could think was 'Oh gods, this is it.  It's over.'  I'd fought for so long, and I just... I felt like I'd let everyone down.  They couldn't hear me, but I apologized to all of them, said my goodbyes, and then just waited for the end.  Then everything faded out...  
  
"...And I woke up in bed again, surrounded by my parents and all my friends.  They'd brought me back from the brink.  A 'miracle', apparently.  If only they knew."  
  
He took a deep drink of his water, trying again to calm his whirlwind of emotions with little success.  
  
"So... yeah.  I relive that every once in a while.  All that fear and sadness, then the survivor's guilt from having a Luck semblance and living where several of my friends died.  It's not something I'd wish on anybody."  He set his glass back on the table, rubbing his forehead.  
  
Mint was about to say something, but he continued.  
  
"But... in a strange way, I'm grateful for it too.  It wasn't long after that that I decided I wanted to be a Huntsman.  We all have to go someday, and if I was given the chance, then damn it, I'd rather die on my feet fighting for something I believe in; something I want to protect.  I've done my time as an invalid;  I never want to go back."  
  
Mint leaned back, taking the whole story in for a second.  "That's... pretty heavy.  It's never easy to look your own mortality in the eye like that.  And... for what it's worth, I'm sorry about your friends."  
  
Gaspard took a heavy breath.  "I'd trade places with any of them if I could.  But since I can't, I'm going to make the most of this hand I've been dealt.  I want to make them proud, wherever they are."  
  
Mint smiled.  "That's good, though.  Turning a bad experience into something positive - a motivation.  I only wish I could do that with... something from my past, rather than pretend it didn't exist."  
  
Now it was Gaspard's turn to be curious.  
  
"When I was around eleven, we - the Clovis clan - made enemies of a pretty vicious raider band.  They tried to take us all out at once, but their bomb went off two hours early, when only a few of us were home at the time.  All I can remember from that day is hearing a bang, then seeing the roof come down at me.  Apparently - I'd been told this later - I'd gotten pinned under rubble, screamed for hours and hours and shredded my fingertips to the bone trying to claw myself free.  By the time they'd dug me out, I was catatonic.  Stayed that way for almost a week.  The hysterical blindness lingered a couple days after, too.  That didn't help my mental state any."  
  
She chuckled in spite of herself.  
  
"Perry - my little brother - had a hard time of it too.  I had to teach myself not to scream anymore, because that set him off really badly.  Hearing your cool big sis trapped under rubble, covered in blood and dust and drool and shrieking like a banshee oblivious to the world... can't say I blame him.  
  
"But he and Jade helped pull me out of it, too.  After I woke up, we'd joke around and just talk about dumb cartoons and whatever else kids do, and eventually the blindness faded, I healed up, and we all went on like it never happened.  Except that, to this day, I still shut down any time I'm in a small space.  Like, full-on crying and panicking.  I can stare a giant Grimm in the eye and not even flinch, but put me in an elevator and I'm useless.  How pathetic is that?"  
  
"So you step into a small room and some... primal terror just takes over?" he asked.  
  
"Pretty much.  The walls close in, I start sweating bullets, then all I want is to get out, even if I need to break my legs kicking the door open.  Trust me, I almost did that once.  But then, once I'm out... it's gone.  Part of me just knows I went through something horrible and thinks I will again, even if I can't actually remember any of it."  
  
"That's... pretty bizarre." Gaspard said.  
  
"It's dug deep, that's for sure.   Every time I try to confront my fear, it's just as fresh as ever.   I don't know if I'll ever be truly free of it.  At least with my Semblance, it's not that big of a problem."  
  
"Fear gives people wings.  I guess literally in this case."  Gaspard chuckled.  
  
"Same could be said in your case.  You almost flew off to heaven."  
  
"...I guess I did."  They both laughed at that one.  
  
You couldn't always face your own fear, but you can always mock it to make the stigma more bearable.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't plan a medical drama element to the story of CRML, but it ended up happening anyway. In more ways than one, as we'll see.


	6. Sigurd Afon, of Team SNNA

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A few unexpected surprises on the road to becoming a Hunter.

It was Team CRML's first morning as a team, and Mint, like the sun outside, was unpleasantly bright and energetic at this ungodly hour.  
  
"Remind me why we're up at 6:30 AM, again?" a very groggy Dirae asked.  
  
"We still need to unpack, of course," her leader answered, "and get our lodgings properly furnished.  Unless you really like the military cots."  
  
She did not, even if it took almost five minutes to drag herself upright from one.  
  
"Mm.  Tell me we have coffee, at least."  
  
"Brewing as we speak." came Clodagh's reply from the hall outside.  
  
"Mm.  Where's the little guy?"  
  
"Went downstairs to get some furniture kits.  Should be back any minute."  
  
Right on cue, a ring sounded from down the hall and a rather large handcart was pushed out of the freight elevator, several boxes and mattresses aboard.  
  
"Hope you like hex keys." he said as he reached the door, pulling a handful from his pocket and dropping them atop the pile.  "There was a whole box up at the front counter.  They were quite insistent that I grab a handful on the way out, and not bring them back."  
  
"Mm."  
  
Well, before she did anything, let alone get annoyed by tiny wrenches, she'd need some fuel.  So she drifted toward the smell of sweet, life-sustaining caffeine on the cart just outside.  
  
\---  
  
It had taken them a significant amount of time to find their first class, but they couldn't really be blamed for that considering just how damn _huge_  Shade turned out to be.  It towered over much of the rest of the city, but that didn't show the half of what it was like inside.  It was practically another city unto itself in size, which made finding their destination quite a journey.  
  
Not aiding matters was a particularly odd numbering scheme they employed.  
  
"You go up one floor from 12 and you hit floor 14?  Who does that?!" asked Dirae.  She, like the rest of her group, was more than a bit annoyed at having explored the 15th floor in its entirety without finding their destination.  
  
"It's actually quite common in taller buildings to skip floor 13." Epsilon answered.  "It's considered bad luck."  
  
"Well, there aren't many buildings in Vacuo that have a third floor, let alone a thirteenth.  Or fourteenth, I guess." was Gaspard's response.  
  
"Mm... point."  
  
The clock struck 9:00 as their teacher finally entered the room.  Well, "hobbled" would be more accurate; he walked with a cane, gripped in what looked like a crude prosthetic hand, before turning to face his class, revealing that his right eye, like his hand and leg, was disfigured as well.  Covered by a black eyepatch, in fact.  
  
"Greetings, students." he spoke with a flourish.  "I am Sigurd Afon, and I will be teaching you the history of Remnant.  But before that, I should tell you more about myself.  I was the former leader of Team SNNA.  We, along with many others, all fought in the campaign to retake Range from the Grimm, and as you all probably know, it went poorly for all parties involved.  Many didn't come back, and most that did were forcibly retired from the life of a Hunter.  I was one of the more fortunate ones," he raised his prosthetic, "which should tell you enough."  
  
"I had intended to retire from the Hunter's life entirely and return to my family home in Mauve, but due to my... unique Semblance, I was asked to remain here and teach at Shade.  I agreed, and so I now stand here before you."  
  
A student on the far end of the room raised his hand and was quickly acknowledged. "What is your Semblance?"  
  
"My semblance is a rare one in that it is hereditary, though it varies quite a lot among my family line.  My particular one labels me as a Dominant Empath - someone who broadcasts emotions to others within range.  You doubtlessly all feel a bit more energetic and uplifted right now?  That means my current mood is having an effect on you all.  You've all been under the effect of my Semblance without even realizing it!"  
  
The same student asked again.  "You broadcast your emotions?  Isn't that... you know..."  
  
"Very dangerous?  Yes.  As you all know, the Grimm are drawn to negative emotions, and the death and destruction they leave behind only bring more.  For that reason, my Semblance is a potentially disastrous one to have.  Fear not, however, as measures have been taken to ensure your safety.  First, I am kept under close watch..." he motioned to a surveillance camera in the corner of the room, "and second, I have undergone a strict hypnotherapy regimen since my youth to keep myself in a positive frame of mind, come whatever may."  
  
"Isn't that... basically mind control?" Epsilon asked next.  "Both for you and for us?"  
  
Afon laughed.  "In a way, yes.  But I also view it as a boon.  I can take Shade's most disliked subject and make it into something you will all devote your rapt attention to, which is part of why I was called on to do this job.  More importantly, however, this is an important lesson to all of you.  My Semblance is not the scariest or most dangerous force on Remnant.  Not even close.  I'm on your side, but many out there with far greater potential to cause ruin aren't.  You'd do well to remember that as you prepare yourselves for this journey into the world of the Hunter."  
  
A few more scattered questions came, mostly concerning the Semblance which, apparently, they were all already under the spell of.  
  
"Many in my family are Dominant Empaths as well.  I had an aunt who broadcast the feeling of love to everyone nearby, which led to many awkward moments, I'm sure."  
  
"Several of my cousins fall on the other end of the spectrum - they are Receptive Empaths, whose emotions attune to those nearby.  A few of the more clever ones have used this to turn a dire situation around, attuning themselves to their opponents' overconfidence and stopping their momentum cold!  That kind of lateral thinking is something I hope to impart upon you in this class."  
  
It was only some forty minutes later that any discussion of Remnant history finally got underway, and true to his word, the entire class found themselves absorbed in it for the duration.  It was only after the bell rang and everyone shuffled out that the effects began to fade and things finally began to dawn on them.  
  
"So... we're all guinea pigs in a mind control experiment, apparently." Cinna said.  
  
"Not really what I expected when I signed up for this gig." Gaspard admitted.  
  
"At least we'll all get an A in history." Dirae replied.  "I mean, you can't really zone out when that kind of thing is happening."  
  
"Guess not.  So, what's next on the schedule?" asked Marina.  
  
After a moment of thought, Clodagh spoke.  "PT, with one Professor Saffron."  
  
"Alright!" Dirae grinned.  "That's where I'm a viking!"  
  
"Yeah, but you can't top me." Marina grinned back.  
  
"We'll see about that!"  
  
They all began their search anew through the labyrinth that was Shade Academy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I almost ended up scrapping this one, but I kept it in the end because I liked the awkwardness of it.


	7. Unexpected Wisdom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clodagh learns not to judge a book by its cover.

Ah, the joys of limited budgets.  
  
Timetables for the small, sparsely-furnished exercise yard Shade could muster meant that for PT hour, Team CRML was minus their leader, and Team TRSR was just team "R", as in Raylight.  The noisy one.  
  
Which also meant a period of the two muscleheads vying for supremacy, leaving the rest of their teams in the dust.  Literally; it seemed like every ounce of dirt and grime from the yard found its way onto them or their teammates in the course of all their rough-housing and competition.  As someone with finely-trained senses, this was not something Clodagh was particularly fond of.  
  
Their rivalry didn't even stop once they left the field, though.  They continued their joking, boasting and general cacophony even into the locker rooms.  
  
"You don't think men go crazy for a set of lady-abs?  You're crazy." came Dirae's voice from behind her, loud enough to make hear ears ring.  
  
"Maybe it's different here in the dustbowl, but in Atlas, that's more of the butch look." Marina fired back, not missing a beat. "Atlas boys like the slender ladies."  
  
How hard was it to get some respite from the bustle during your daily maintenance.  Seriously.  
  
"Nothing sexy about looking like a twig, dearie.  The boys in Atlas just want to play the he-man to someone they're not intimidated by."  
  
"If this was still the dark ages, maybe that'd be true.  No reason you can't kick ass and look beautiful doing it."  
  
Urgh.  Can't you two just cleanse yourselves and then dress like sane human beings?!  
  
"Beautiful like an anime character, maybe.  Nothing but pretty colors, only looks good until you start moving."  
  
"Better than a marble statue."  
  
"Bronze, dearie.  Takes time to sculpt, has that great sheen, endures for the ages.  Unlike your pretty toy commercials."  
  
A gasp.  "You did NOT just insult Tetsuwan Atom!""  
  
Happy place happy place happy place, thought Clodagh as she finally finished and stepped out, leaving them to their inane back-and-forth while she dried herself.  
  
Of course it still carried over into the locker area, but at least it wasn't echoing off everything around her and was somewhat muffled by a brick wall.  Take what you can get when the two loudest women in the world are arguing, she supposed.  
  
After a small eternity they ceased their nonsense, with Marina finally getting dressed and departing for her next class, one thankfully far away from the muse of all her infernal boasting.  
  
Her teammate, whom her next class was with.  Urgh.  
  
"You okay over there, Clody?" came Dirae's voice from an opposing bank of lockers.  
  
"Just fine, once my ears stop ringing."  
  
A pause.  "Oh... right.  Super hearing.  Sorry."  
  
"Just... why all the grandstanding?  Who are you trying to impress?" she asked, somewhat exasperated.  
  
"Oh, we tease each other all the time.  Did it back home, too.  It's all in good fun."  
  
She sighed.  
  
"You could easily jump in, you know.  You've got some pretty crazy skills yourself.  Plus you can sling stingers with the best of them."  
  
"I'm really nothing special." Clodagh replied.  
  
Dirae leaned around the corner, still half-dressed.  
  
"Nothing special?!  Clody.  There are _very_  few people in this world that can read a book cover-to-cover in half an hour, then recite the whole thing back to you on command, word-for-word."  
  
"So?"  
  
"E-- You're serious?  That's a normal thing to you?!"  
  
"Anyone can do that with enough practice." she replied.  "And don't call me Clody."  
  
"But not everyone does.  You've got a dedication that even most Huntresses can't match.  Hell, _I'm_ jealous of you sometimes.  Not saying you need to go around tooting your own horn, but show a little respect for talent!"  
  
Dirae was _jealous_ of _her_?  Since when?  
  
"If more people would at least _try_ to better themselves, I would be happy.  Maybe then Vacuo wouldn't be the cesspit of prejudice and power-worship it is today." she said, more venomous than she intended.  
  
The air grew heavy at those words.  
  
"...Whoa.  Where did that come from?" asked Dirae after a long pause.  
  
Damn it.  She kicked herself for letting that slip.  And in that tone, too.  
  
"...Never mind.  Forget I said anything."  
  
"Oh no." Dirae rounded the corner.  "You don't drop words like that and then leave them out to fester."  
  
"You're right.  I lost my head.  I shouldn't have said that.  I apologize."  
  
Both of them were quickly being pushed into an uncomfortable place, and they didn't like it.  
  
"People are the most truthful at their most passionate.  I know that better than anyone."  
  
Silence.  
  
"Clody.  I make it a point to never let bad blood brew.  Let's resolve this, here and now, before it blows up."  
  
Still silent.  
  
"Do I have to tickle it out of you?" she smirked.  
  
What in the world...  
  
"I am not some child you can--"  
  
Dirae held her arms outstretched, fingers wiggling as she slowly approached.  
  
Good god, she was serious.  A six-year-old in the body of an amazon.  
  
Knowing Dirae, she couldn't hope to overpower or outrun her, either.  Damn it.  
  
Clodagh sighed. "Fine.  You win."  
  
Dirae waited for Clodagh to speak, taking a place on the bench next to her.  
  
"First, let me say that it's nothing personal against you."  
  
Dirae turned to face her.  
  
"It isn't.  It's just that... hearing that sort of thing drudges up bad memories.  Of people smiling and 'joking' to your face, then letting slip that they actually despise you when they think your back is turned.  Sometimes they don't even bother to lie about it - they just stab you in the heart for a cheap laugh, thinking that just because they never leave a mark on you that they're not doing permanent damage.  
  
"All of that just so they can have a self-serving show of power and prestige.  Pretending to be some great, amazing, incomparable person when really they're nothing but a bully, always hiding behind their 'real friends' who probably hate them but don't have the guts to stand up to them.  That cynicism and fakery is something I always despised.  Something I always tried to be better than."  
  
 _That's_ what it was.  Given her... different abilities, Clodagh had probably had it rough.  Kids were bigoted little monsters sometimes.  Teenagers even moreso.  
  
"I get it."  
  
Did she really.  Clodagh didn't respond so she could continue.  
  
"No, really, I understand.  Kids can be awful.  Little shits with fragile egos and energy they don't know what to do with.  Some never grow out of it, either, and that's always fun to deal with.  But, believe it or not, that's also part of why I'm the way I am."  
  
Oh, this would be good.  
  
"Any strong person can tell you that nothing shows you more honestly than a good contest of strength.  When you're in a place beyond words, it's just your body doing the talking.  How you conduct yourself, how honed your skills and focus are, tells people all they need to know about you.  And at the end, there's one simple truth: if you lost, it's because the other person was better.  The purest, simplest thing in this crazy world of ours."  
  
Well, that was... strangely insightful.  
  
"I mix it up with Marina all the time, but it's all good-natured.  At the end of the day, we're comrades, pushing each other to better ourselves for where it matters most - out there on the battlefield, where the real bad guys are.  That's something I try to impart on my fans, too - channeling all that energy into something useful, not destructive."  
  
"I... never really thought of it that way." Clodagh said.  "I thought it was all just the same noise."  
  
"Nah.  I hate empty bragging and trash-talk as much as anyone.  At least I can back it up when I say I'll leave someone in pieces.  Hell, you can too.  I remember initiation night."  
  
Ah yes, that guy.  He hadn't made the cut for Shade, as far as she knew.  Now she wasn't sure whether to feel bad for crushing his pride, or hope he took it as a lesson and tried to better himself for another attempt.  
  
The hall-facing door opened as another wave of students started to pour in.  
  
"Ah, next class is starting in five.  We'd better get moving."  
  
"After you put your clothes back on." Clodagh spoke.  
  
"Oh, right."  She chuckled at her own forgetfulness, standing up to go do just that.  "One more question, though."  
  
"Hm?"  
  
"What's with the Clody thing?"  
  
"It's an honor reserved for the one I respect the most."  
  
Ah. Mint was an oddball for sure, but she could certainly sell you on that ideal of hers, lofty and far-fetched as it was.  In a more peaceful world, she'd be the finest pitchwoman Remnant had ever seen.  She could certainly see why Clodagh looked up to her, though.  
  
"But seriously.  Don't call me Clody."  
  
Dirae laughed.  "Alright, alright.  Clodagh it is."  
  
Meeting up with Gaspard a short way down the hall, they headed to Aura Training.


	8. Uncut Diamonds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Team TRSR comes together.

All in all, Epsilon would consider their first few hours as Team TRSR a success.  
  
During initiation, they had helped bring a wanted fugitive to justice, removing his threat from larger Vacuo.  Since it had happened before they were officially deemed Hunters-in-training, they were entitled to a reward, which in part went to an expensive dinner at their leader's insistence.  
  
Vacuo may have its share of problems, but he couldn't deny they could make a fine steak here.  
  
At any rate, the day had come to a close after a long bout of excitement with a few of his fellow recruits - mostly of Team CRML - and they were now on the way to their new lodgings, located in the lower reaches of the towering Shade Academy.  
  
He still wasn't sure about this co-ed dorms thing, but... well, no.  He certainly wasn't foolish enough to do anything untoward, so there wouldn't be a problem.  Still, it seemed... unbecoming professional Hunters in training, somehow.  
  
"Top bunk!" shouted the smallest of their number, her unflappable enthusiasm and lack of any fashion sense whatsoever matching her childish appearance.  No two things on her seemed to match in color, and all could be described as "loud" at best and "garish" at worst.  
  
The door swung open, revealing a fairly large room with only four cots set across its floor.  
  
"...Wait, we don't even get beds?" asked Marina.  
  
"Apparently not." he spoke.  
  
Cinna reached in, finding a switch on the wall.  Flicking it on revealed a single, bare bulb set in the ceiling above.  
  
"Well... beats sleeping in a cave." she wryly remarked.  
  
Her hand ran over a sheet of paper, pinned to a small corkboard just above the light switch.  She scanned it briefly.  
  
"Oh.  Beds are in storage.  We can pick 'em up tomorrow.  And any other furniture we may need, too."  
  
Everyone looked at her questioningly.  
  
"Staff shortages made them unprepared for the new initiates, apparently.  Oh, and bedlice.  Don't want that, so they're getting all the mattresses treated."  
  
Well, that was offputting.  
  
Still, it wasn't a bad place to stay.  There was a house fan to deal with the stifling late afternoon heat, and a small balcony provided some respite from the empty brick walls and a nice view of the city below.  Whomever had built this place had certainly taken advantage of the perks of its monstrous size.  
  
So they took to the balcony to talk for a while and get more properly introduced.  
  
He already knew Marina's story, of course.  School troublemaker turned bodyguard turned Huntress-in-training.  She really hadn't changed much over the years, save for acquiring her Semblance (super-strength - how droll) and receiving a prototype suit of armor from her father that granted her greater mobility and energy-absorption capabilities.  
  
Linda was a strange one for sure, and her story was too.  
  
"Well, I'm the thirteenth daughter of Terra Silver, and no, it's not something I'm proud of."  
  
Epsilon knew the name before even coming to Vacuo; his father had made no secret of his disdain for the Silver matriarch.  Terra had accrued a reputation as a ruthless businesswoman, having a stake in almost every element of Vacuo's economy and always looking to expand her influence further, no matter who she had to crush beneath her heels to do it.  Her daughters were your typical spoiled brats as well, though they all somehow had acquired powerful and disturbing Semblances that kept them a constant source of fear and embarrassing headlines in the scandal sheets.  
  
"But I am proud to be the only daughter of Nero Taggart Silver.  Only person in the family who had a conscience, and he did his best to raise me right.  Taught me all I know about his craft, how to fight back against the Demons of Vanity (her sisters, Epsilon presumed), and about running an honest business.  
  
"He passed away from cancer about a year ago, and I lost my only friend in the world.  But he also named me as the sole heir of his tailoring business behind my mother's back.  That pissed the ol' hag off something fierce!"  She laughed.  
  
"I got bullied constantly to turn over my stake, and believe me, I was tempted, even though it would be a big betrayal to Dad.  But then I saw another way out.  I enrolled in Huntress training.  I want to become strong enough to protect my workers.  They're the only real family I have, and if anyone messes with them, I'll tie 'em in a knot!"  Two lengths of scarf formed into giant fists around her to emphasize her words.  
  
"As weird as it sounds, Shade's the safest place in Vacuo for me and for Taggart Atelier.  So... here I am."  
  
Cinna thought for a moment.  "Don't you need to be eighteen to inherit a business?"  
  
"Yeah.  So?"  
  
A beat.  
  
"You're nineteen?!" exclaimed Marina.  "I'd figured you'd gotten in early."  
  
"Nope!"  
  
She certainly didn't look the part.  Hell, she could easily be mistaken for far younger from a mug shot.  Neoteny was a powerful thing sometimes.  
  
It was his turn next.  
  
"I am Epsilon of the Rubine family of Atlas, and as Marina has stated, we were once classmates at Athens Academy.  I chose to train at Shade because I believed I could do the most good here, in a place that seems to desperately need it.  ...No offense to you two, of course."  
  
"Eh, none taken.  We all know Vacuo's a pretty crappy place." responded Linda.  "But it's home!"  
  
"Err.. right."  
  
That just left Cinna, the one he'd ended up partnered with by chance after they stumbled upon each other in that dust cloud.  
  
"Well, I guess I'm lucky, in a strange way, that none of my teammates have heard of me.  Cinna Teal, former bandit of West Vacuo."  
  
"Bandit?!" Linda exclaimed.  
  
She raised her hands in surrender.  "Hey, hey, hey.  Calm down.  I said 'former' bandit.  At least let me tell my story before you judge me.  Or nail me to a fencepost."  
  
The last part was directed at Epsilon, who had let a harsh expression set in.  He could deal with everything else Shade had thrown at him, but being partnered with a  _criminal_  was too much to ask!  He had half a mind to book a return flight to Atlas at the first opportunity and leave this cursed place for good.  
  
"I'm telling you this up-front, so there's no unpleasant surprises later."  
  
But, he supposed, he should at least her her out.  
  
"Very well.  Continue."  
  
"Well, let me start by saying that I never enjoyed hurting people.  When you get abandoned by your parents and raised by the streets, you do what you can to survive.  So I did.  I rounded up a band of other vagrants and we took to robbing people to eke out a living.  Did that for three or four years.  
  
"But it all came to an end one day when we ran across Gehenna, the Hell Knight.  Weird name for such a goody-two-shoes.  But anyway, she pretty much thrashed us all without even breaking a sweat.  Most of my crew ran away, but she caught me.  She kept me captive, saying I had 'potential for greatness' and that it would be a shame to let me rot in a cell somewhere.  
  
"Of course, I wanted nothing to do with her, so I stood defiant, saying my crew would come back and save me.  She dared them to try.  Literally; we stayed there at my camp for over a week, me in chains, she just sitting nearby, enduring all my abuse without a word and waiting for my soldiers to return.  
  
"They never did.  Even after all I'd done for them, they'd abandoned me without a second thought.  I was all alone in the world again.  So, after nine days of denial, I finally gave in.  Broke down and started ugly-crying.  I told her to just get it over with; kill me or turn me in, I didn't care anymore.  Instead, she took off the shackles, hugged me and said something I'll never forget."  
  
 _"I'll give you a life worth living."_  
  
She sniffled at that memory, blinking back a tear.  
  
"And well... she did.  I got put on the fast track to become a Huntress.  Learning how to fight worth a damn.  Learning _when_ to fight.  Training my Aura, unlocking my Semblance, and finding pride in giving rather than taking.  But it all came at a price.  If I ever strayed back into my old ways, _they'd_ come after me."  
  
"...Who?"  asked Marina.  
  
"The Enforcers.  Shade's best.  They track down Hunters who have strayed from their path, and make sure you'll never use your power for personal gain again, one way or another.  I dodged them a few times as an outlaw, and saw them take out a quarry from a distance.  It was..." a nervous swallow,  "...Not something I ever want to experience firsthand.  
  
"But don't get me wrong; I'm not here because I'm being blackmailed.  I'm here because I want to be.  I really do want to atone for my mistakes and prove I'm more than just some desert thug.  I got that chance.  Most people don't.  And maybe a few more will if I can pull it off."  
  
She faced her team once again, giving Epsilon particular attention. "So, after hearing all that... are you all willing to give me a chance?"  
  
They all seemed hesitant to speak, seemingly sizing up her expression and trying to determine whether it was all some big act she was putting on.  After a few seconds of that, she added something else.  
  
"And if I ever do something out of line, feel free to kick my ass.  I'd rather get it from you than from the Enforcers.  You have my full permission for that."  
  
"Jeez.  You'd let ME beat on you?  You're either foolish or damn dedicated." Marina answered at last.  "But I can tell you're no liar, so sure.  Count me in."  
  
So now _she_ was the insightful one.  
  
Linda spoke next.  "You've seen me literally twist people like a pretzel, so I know you would't throw that around lightly.  Plus it's not like I have anywhere else to go.  So sure.  I'll be your personal chauffeur!"  
  
Shouldn't that be "chaperone"?  
  
"...Epsilon?" she hesitantly asked after a few tense moments of silence.  
  
Well, he couldn't read a lie in anything he said.  Not that that meant much; she could be a damn good con.  But if she was willing to submit herself to _those_ two lunatics...  
  
"...Very well.  I'll give you a chance to prove yourself." he spoke at last.  
  
Cinna smiled brightly.  She hadn't let Gehenna down yet.  Maybe she could make this work after all.  
  
"Thank you so much."  
  
\---  
  
The day had wound down and Linda and Epsilon had retired inside, readying themselves for their first day of classes tomorrow.  Linda had converted her cot into some kind of hammock using her... bizarre powers while Epsilon kept his in its standard form as they both read quietly. That just left Marina and her leader on the balcony.  
  
"Say, what is your Semblance anyway, Cinna?" asked Marina.  
  
She exhaled.  "Promise not to laugh?"  
  
"Promise."  
  
"...I drain stamina from anything my aura touches.  Gehenna called it 'Parasite'."  
  
She snirked.  
  
"Hey.  You promised."  
  
"I'm sorry, it's just.. you're trying to be a productive member of society, but you get stuck with _that_ as your Semblance?  Tough break."  
  
"Yeah it's... it's something alright." she lowered her eyes, but chuckled in spite of herself.  
  
"But if you think that's bad, wait until you hear what my weapons are named."


	9. Nothing in particular

Class was out and Team CRML temporarily went their separate ways; Gaspard was off to remedial training, and Clodagh... well, she was Clodagh.  
  
"Off to the library again?" asked Mint.  
  
"Of course." she replied.  "It's so hard to find books outside of the capital, let alone ones that are any good."  
  
How she could read anything without actually seeing the pages was still a mystery to both of them, but she had demonstrated that it was no deception.  Dirae had picked a random book off the shelf and Clodagh had read the entire first chapter in a little over a minute, repeating passages of it back to them word-for-word and even pointing out a printing error that left a lowercase "t" lower than the rest of the line.  
  
They were both left in shock for a full thirty seconds before Dirae worked up the fortitude to ask how she'd done it.  
  
"Semblance." was all she'd said at the time.  
  
It had only been a couple weeks since they'd arrived at Shade, but it was a wonder she hadn't run out of reading material already.  
  
That left behind the rare pair of Dirae and Mint.  Which meant...  
  
"Fun run!" declared Dirae.  "And no Semblance; that's cheating."  
  
As had become their tradition, they began a lap around Shade.  
  
Also per tradition, Dirae had won, treating her teammate at the small diner that waited near their de facto finish line.  
  
\--  
  
"Vegetarian?  Are you really that averse to having flavor in your food?" asked Dirae.  
  
"You say that, but this is some damn good focaccia." Mint replied, taking another bite.  
  
Dirae was unimpressed, digging back into her chicken salad (with a much heavier emphasis on the chicken than anything green).  
  
"You're not a vegetarian anyway.  I've seen you eating Gaspard's omelettes."  
  
"Vegans are the ones that don't eat anything animal-related.  Vegetarians just don't eat meat."  
  
She thought for a second.  "...Ah, right."  
  
"Besides, they're damn good omelettes."  
  
"Can't deny that.  He ever tell you how he got so good at making those?"  
  
"Nope."  
  
She chuckled about something, then continued.  
  
"He doesn't even like eggs.  He just puts a bunch of spices and sauce in to make them not, and I'm quoting here, 'taste like copper'."  
  
Mint thought about that for a second.  
  
"So _that's_ why I couldn't taste any egg!  I thought he was using some kind of substitute."  
  
"Nope.  He buys em at the local place.  Spent weeks perfecting his recipe, since that's all he'd get for breakfast most days during training.  Probably more tomato in there than zygote."  
  
Mint laughed.  Her teammate was nothing if not resourceful.  
  
\---  
  
"So, what led you into the Huntress business?" asked Dirae.  
  
"Oh, it's a bit of a family trade.  It started with my grandfather after his father died in the Great War.  He swore he'd make Vacuo a place worthy for him to have lain down his life for; a land of peace.  He indoctrinated his son into his ideal, and he in turn has taken it up from there.  We've basically been on the Clovis Crusade for three generations, and I was just the next one in line to take up the banner.  So I've been swinging a spear around, learning to resist torture, get out of bonds, all that stuff since I was ten."  
  
"But personally... I think the it's all a bit wrong-headed.  We protect the innocent, of course, but we also invite more violence.  When you go everywhere with a war party, sabers rattling, mistakes get made.  People get killed.  Rumors spread.  And that just breeds more resentment and hate."  
  
She stopped for a moment and averted her gaze, seemingly drudging up a bad memory with those words.  
  
"We got attacked once at home by a raider band.  I nearly died.  My dad went on a mad tear after that, hunting every last one of them down and making examples of them.  He did it for me, but... I didn't feel better knowing that.  They may have been bad people, but they still had families - kids - who watched a man slaughter them in cold blood, and now probably want some payback of their own.  Hell, some of them might even be at Shade, waiting to catch me alone so they can slip a knife in my ribs, just to watch my dad squirm."  
  
She shuddered at the thought.  
  
"Can't say I'd blame them, either.  But all the same... I don't want that.  Not so much for me, but for my siblings.  Peridot and Jade... they helped pull me out of the trauma and guilt by just being kids.  Simple, innocent, just enjoying playground games and comic books and silly things.  I don't want them to go nailing someone to the wall later in life over their big sis.  
  
"So I decided that I wouldn't continue the Clovis Crusade.  I want to be someone people emulate, not fear and despise.  Someone who will teach forgiveness and selflessness, and only draw their weapon as a last resort.  Maybe it's naive of me, but that's what I think will really help Vacuo."  
  
"Can't imagine that went over well with your dad." Dirae said, listening intently.  
  
Mint emitted an ironic chuckle.  "No, not really.  He was downright livid at first, saying I was a disgrace to my grandfather's memory and some... other things I'd rather not repeat.  But he came around.  I didn't hear about this until later, but Jade was the one who changed his mind.  She'd heard about the argument while in school, that I'd basically spent an hour crying over it, and..."  
  
A laugh this time.  
  
"She walked out of class, came straight home, stormed into his study with all the fury a seven-year-old could muster, stared him right in the eye and shouted at him,  
  
 _"You hurt Minty!  You're just like those bad people who blew up our house!"_  
  
"He was still fuming over our argument, so he was none too happy to see her take my side.  He told her that he was doing what was best for us and trying to do right by our great-grandfather.  Jade was undeterred."  
  
 _"You love your granddad, but I love Mint!  She's here for all of us!  He's not!!"_  
  
Another chuckle.  
  
"She got a paddling for that one.  But... it still put things in perspective for him.  He came back to my room a few hours later, apologized for his harsh words and told me that he'd give my way a chance.  If I could actually get people on board, make a difference my way... he'd hang up his spear for good.  So... here I am.  He gave me this chance to prove my way was better.  I can't let him down.  I won't."  
  
"So that's why you're trying to make us something larger than life, eh?" asked Dirae.  
  
"Yes. I really do think putting ourselves above all the pettiness and blood feuding would do more good for Vacuo than any army ever would.  More than anything, though, I want to do this because I'm proud of my little sister.  She did what nobody else had ever done and brought low the patriarch of Clan Clovis.  An angry seven-year-old carrying a stuffed rabbit succeeded where dozens of slavers and highwaymen failed, and all she really did was look him in the eye and call him a bully.  Refused to apologize or even cry when she was punished for it, too.  That's just plain awesome."  
  
Without missing a beat, Dirae replied.  "Hell, she could probably join our superhero team.  We'd call her 'The Emasculator'."  
  
They both laughed out loud at that one.  
  
\---  
  
After they'd paid for their meal and left, the conversation continued.  
  
"So what's your story, Dirae?"  
  
A moment of hesitation.  "Would you believe 'circus strongwoman turned Huntress'?" she asked.  
  
"I might if you didn't take a second or two to come up with that." Mint smirked.  
  
"Well, it's true.  I'm part of Sunset Entertainment.  We travel around Vacuo and put on shows to earn our living.  I was always an unstoppable ball of energy, so Burdock had me lifting weights since I was seven.  And you have to learn to fight to survive the deserts, so that just came with the territory.  
  
"But it was Phoebe, my little sister, who pushed me to become a Huntress, so I guess we have some common ground there."  Dirae chuckled.  "A few others in the camp had already applied, and she said I should too.  No sense in wasting my talents smashing bricks when I could be doing some real good smashing Grimm.  So I got a few months of impromptu training, learned to forge a weapon and applied for the entrance exam.  And well... I made it in.  Somehow."  
  
That would explain why Burdock, her mentor, didn't show up on any Huntress lists.  But if Dirae could make it at Shade...  
  
"Did anyone else from Sunset pass the exam?" she asked.  
  
"Yep, Sandy and Dusty.  They're in their third year.  Off on a mission right now, but I'll introduce you sometime."  
  
Well.  They all had their journeys, but a band of circus performers fighting to save the soul of Vacuo was a new one by her.


	10. Don't let the shadows gather

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Realization is a long road.

Weekend weight training.  Dirae's favorite subject, it seemed, as it was one of the few things Team CRML didn't have to pry her out of bed with a crowbar for.  It was a struggle to get her up most days (all three of them had to literally drag her out of bed on some mornings), but on Saturday when the gym was still open, she was up and out the door before everyone else in the dorm.  
  
Except her partner, that is.  It certainly wasn't Gaspard's favorite part of training, but he accompanied her anyway; if nothing else, then just to get a bit more work done on being physically capable enough to hold his own during sparring.  And at least she was more pleasant to be around than Saffron; no disapproving glances at his low benching weight or still-below-average times on obstacle courses.  
  
Plus she always had fun stories about her days at Sunset.  
  
"I ever tell you about the upset loss Morpho had?"  
  
"Nope." he said, straining as he raised the bar for another rep.  
  
She spoke in third person to avoid breaking 'kayfabe', which he'd learned meant portraying the events of the show as reality to lend dramatic weight.  He already knew about her wrestling persona, but still, it'd be bad if anyone overheard.  
  
"Well, we had a tables match; Morpho versus Topaz.  First one through the table loses.  Morpho was supposed to win it, and she almost did... until m- _her_ foot slipped off the turnbuckle and she fell out of the ring, right through the table she'd already set up."  
  
He pictured the scene in his head and chuckled.  "Always happens at the worst time, eh?"  
  
"You know it.  She was a little dazed from the fall, but the ones behind the scenes were shocked beyond belief.  Topaz was now the world champ and the only one left to stand against her was Caulifa, the rookie.  Certainly looked bad for the West Vacuo Strikers.  Last I heard, she was on the fast track, making scenes to be edited into a training montage, like some eighties movie."  
  
He snickered again, struggling to get one more rep in.  "I can relate.  Everyone counting on you and you just have to make it all happen, somehow."  
  
"Yeah, but when you've got some awesome friends to help you, you find a way." she grinned.  
  
"Very... true." he strained, finally finishing it and setting the bar back atop the rest and sitting up, breathing a sigh of relief.  
  
"150 down." he let himself beam a bit - something he never did around anyone but his partner.  "Two years ago today, I could barely handle a third of that."  
  
"Always great when you hit another plateau." Dirae replied, smiling.  "But remember, you don't want to be too bulky.  Keep that wiry speed so you can slip under their guard and put a blade in their ribs."  
  
"Of course.  But I can't dodge everything.  Need enough bulk to not get knocked over when I try to block, at least."  
  
Or get blindsided by a chair.  That topic hadn't come up again recently, but since Dirae's past was now known to him, it seemed significantly more possible.  
  
"That'll come in time.  But nothing replaces good ol' practice.  Gotta carry yourself like a fighter, learn to feel out your opponent, find a weakness and go for it when the opportunity shows itself.  And that means taking some lumps."  
  
Dirae was a dynamo of enthusiasm and energy, but she knew her stuff.  She was a pillar of muscle too, but knew well enough not to rely on size and strength alone; after all, impressive as she was, she couldn't match Marina's Semblance, so she had to use her superior agility to keep out of her reach instead.  Power wasn't everything in a fight, especially not in Remnant.  
  
\---  
  
They met up again a short while later, taking a short lunch break at the cafeteria.  
  
"Study session with Clodagh and Mint, spend some time in the forge, then whatever's left of the day goes into homework." Gaspard laid out his plans for the rest of the day.  
  
"Don't you ever relax?" asked Dirae.  "Just take a little time to yourself once in a while?"  
  
"Nah.  If I sit idle too long, the dark thoughts start to gather.  Then I don't want to do anything.  Then more dark thoughts brew, and I get stuck in a downward spiral."  
  
"Diving endlessly into distraction doesn't make problems go away, you know."  
  
"Maybe not.  But it keeps me sane."  
  
"Gotta confront 'em sooner or later.  Preferably before it turns you into a robot." she smirked at that, but still showed a hint of concern on her face.  
  
"That's the thing, though.  It's not something I can really confront.  It's just..."  
  
He sighed.  
  
"It's all lingering doubts, mostly about my Semblance and the implications thereof.  Being 'born lucky' isn't all it's cracked up to be.  You end up second-guessing everything."  
  
"You're the only one I know who can make being lucky a bad thing." she said, a hint of mirth in her voice.  
  
Another sigh.  "Well, when you boil it all down, what is luck, really?  Something gets left to chance - factors beyond your knowledge or control - and it goes in your favor.  But on the flip side, that also means you've inadvertently robbed someone else of that chance; that opportunity.  Tens, hundreds... hell, maybe _millions_ of others.  By being "lucky", I'm stealing luck away from other people.  Once that thought came to me, I couldn't help but shake the feeling that I'm only alive now because I'd stolen that opportunity - that small shot at life - from someone else.  One of my friends.  And I'll never know for sure; that doesn't help me any."  
  
Her expression fell at those words.  She hadn't considered that, either.  
  
"Hell, even Team CRML... kinda got stuck with me.  They could have always gotten someone else.  Someone more qualified, instead of just me, some goof with luck on his side and nothing else."  
  
Well, now that was just ridiculous.  
  
"Hey hey, none of us want that.  Luck Semblance or not, you're what keeps this team sane."  
  
Now he was the one giving the inquisitive look.  
  
"Well, think about it: you put everything in perspective for us.  Mint's a crusader playing at superheroics, I'm a performer playing at being a serious fighter, and Clody... well, she's from the planet Velox and is far above us mere mortals."  
  
They both chuckled at that one.  
  
"But you're none of that.  You're not judgmental or pretentious. You're brutally honest when you need to be, especially with yourself.  But more than anything, you're determined.  You never stop fighting, and you make the most of any opportunity you're given, whether you think you deserve it or not.  No amount of luck can replace that."  
  
He was struck speechless at those words.  
  
"I... might have taken some of that speech from Mint." she admitted sheepishly.  


"Mint said that?"  
  
"Yeah.  But I feel the same.  Fortune's not just a one-way street; we're lucky to have you, too.  So don't say dumb stuff like 'I stole your chance at getting somebody better'.  You ended up where you needed to be, and now we're all going to find a way to make Mint's crazy plan work.  Together."  
  
Well, those definitely weren't Mint's words.  But they hit home anyway.  
  
He chuckled.  "You're right.  So is Clodagh.  Eyes on the prize, and doubts be damned."  
  
She smiled.  
  
"And... for what it's worth, there's nobody else at Shade I'd rather have as my partner." he added.


	11. Stranger Talents

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just some banter between friends, and a bit more on Gaspard's past.

It was another field trip day.  Which, in practice, mostly meant travelling to outlying villages and towns to do community service work.  This in turn generally came in the form of fixing roofs, pouring concrete, building fences and doing other relatively mundane maintenance.  
  
Mint, of course, had taken it full gusto, saying that it proved that no problem was beneath Vacuo's finest, while the rest of Team CRML was considerably less enthusiastic about another day under the blazing sun doing unpaid work.  Still, no classwork, two hour-long breaks and prepaid meals made the whole experience worth it in the end, so they couldn't complain too much.  Not that Mint would stand for it if they did anyway.  
  
So instead, they just talked the time away about whatever came to mind, while Clodagh - ever the quietest of the group - just idly scrawled something in a notebook whenever she had a spare minute, making sure to keep it hidden whenever someone passed nearby her.  
  
Which, of course, only made inquiring minds more curious as to what was in there.  
  
"How's the novel coming, Clodagh?" Dirae asked jestfully.  
  
"What in the world are you talking about?" she asked.  
  
"You're always writing something down.  Anything saucy?"  
  
"Don't be ridiculous."  
  
Well, that was quick.  Probably not that.  
  
"Ooo.  Something adventurous?  Funny?  Horrifying?"  
  
She really shouldn't get this much amusement out of teasing her teammate.  
  
"You don't write with a charcoal pencil." she replied.  
  
Dirae had to think about that one for a second.  
  
"...Wait, you're drawing?"  
  
"Of course.  Why would that be shocking to you?"  
  
It shouldn't have been, really.  Clodagh was acutely aware of physical space around her, and could even read entire books - printed, not Braille - in minutes.  But somehow, that just had never translated into creating art in her mind.  
  
Clodagh had attributed her strange awareness to her Semblance, which had left her teammates thinking it was some sort of replacement for vision.  But that didn't explain some other things; like why she couldn't read digital screens and struggled with full-color magazines.  
  
She was still acutely good at reading an audience, though.  
  
"Still don't get it?  Alright." she didn't make any attempt to divert attention from whatever she was sketching.  
  
"My Semblance lets me extend my sense of touch through Aura.  That's how I 'sense' things, as you've put it a few times."  
  
That explained how she could fight and move through large crowds and obstacle courses without inhibition.  But...  
  
"So you read and write by..."  
  
"Feeling where the ink is on the page." she said.  
  
Dirae was still a bit flustered at the concept.  
  
"So you can just... read tiny print with your Aura, no problem?"  
  
"Of course.  Just a matter of trained senses."  
  
"But... you can also read entire books in minutes..."  
  
"Taught myself to speed-read, too."  
  
"...And you can recite them back on demand!"  
  
She chuckled.  "Well, that's just a talent I have.  Photographic memory.  I can memorize things to their finest detail."  
  
"Did you learn that, too?"  Mint asked.  
  
"I know what you're thinking.  But no.  It's just something I've always been able to do.  I was actually a bit surprised to find out that it wasn't a natural ability everyone had."  
  
The rest of the team was left awestruck at that.  
  
"Trust me, being able to remember things to a T isn't all its cracked up to be. You never get to forget all the bad things in your life.  But it has its benefits, too."  
  
She finished touching up something on her sketchpad at just that moment, turning it around to let them see.  
  
The page depicted a blindfolded figure in a flowing robe, splitting what looked like a thrown apple cleanly in half with a dagger.  It could have easily been mistaken for a photograph, as she had gone to great lengths to capture virtually every detail of the scene - even down to the weave of the cloth he wore and the flow of the droplets of water flying off the blade.  
  
"You always remember the defining moments, too.  The ones that push you to always better yourself and do what you were told all your life isn't possible."  
  
A few moments of awestruck silence followed as they took in the picture, before Mint finally worked up the resolve to speak.  
  
"Is that why you joined Shade?  I mean, you could very easily make a living as an artist with skills like that, Clody."  
  
"Partially." a wry smile.  "Even if only one of my fingers worked, I'd become a Huntress, just to spite the naysayers.  But more than that, he's the one who first showed me that Vacuo is a place worth fighting for.  Even with all of its problems, there is a lot of beauty here."  
  
She closed the sketchbook.  
  
"But enough about me.  Let's hear more about your strange talents."  
  
Dirae laughed. "Well, it's not as impressive as yours, but the kids love it at least."  
  
Picking up a fragment of a cracked brick off the ground, she held it up to head level, then, with a shout, smashed her forehead against it with all the force she could muster.  A loud CRACK rang through the vicinity, but the others' fears were quickly dissuaded as a now-shattered brick and a handful of dust fell from her hand to the ground below.  
  
"Don't try that one at home." she added with a flourish.  
  
"E... how?" was all Mint could manage to get out.  
  
"Aura manipulation.  Have to focus it all on one spot right as you make contact, else... well, blood everywhere." she chuckled uneasily, as if she'd seen it firsthand.  "Not much else to say.  I tried it out during a few shows, people loved it, so I kept it around as a party trick.  Or for busting the occasional nose open."  
  
That would explain initiation day and the state she left that would-be Hunter-killer in.  
  
It was Gaspard's turn next.  He pulled a small roll of coins from his pocket (virtually worthless now that currency was tracked via plastic cards linked to electronic accounts, but that made them easy to collect).  He tore open the wrapping, then, with a flick of his thumb, a sound like a firecracker erupted from his hand, followed shortly by something striking wood with a loud thwack.  
  
The others walked up to inspect where it had impacted, and found a coin deeply embedded in a fencepost some twenty yards away.  
  
"Flicking quarters like bullets."  he spoke as he came up behind them.  "Not as flashy as smashing bricks, but a friend taught it to me.  Then I learned to focus and pressurize Aura during training and, well, that was the result."  
  
"Sounds like he could be a Huntsman in his own right."  Mint joked.  
  
Gaspard's expression dropped a bit.  "He probably could, if he wasn't... well, gone."  
  
She had let his past slip from her mind.  "Oh... that's right.  Sorry."  
  
He took it well, at least.  "Nah, don't apologize.  We both had the same prognosis; I just got lucky where he didn't.  But there's always that doubt..."  
  
Disapproving looks started to form on his team's faces.  
  
"Oh, don't give me that. I'm not talking about my Semblance."  
  
He sighed, leaning back against a wall.  
  
"He was pretty broken up that morning after I nearly passed away, but it wasn't for the obvious reason.  He'd waited for everyone else to leave, then confessed that he'd had feelings for me for a while.  It... came as a pretty big shock."  
  
\---  
  
Dryad sat next to the bed, hands tightly gripping Gaspard's free one, a look of weathered relief on his face.  
  
"I didn't know how to tell you, but since we almost lost you last night, I don't think I can wait any longer.  I've felt this way for a long time, Gaspard.  I... I'm in love with you."  
  
A whirlwind punch of emotions hit him.  His long-time friend in the ICU felt _that_ way about him?  Was he just in hysterics because his friend almost died, or was his lack of sleep making him say strange things, or...  
  
"I...  I don't know what to say." was all he'd managed to get out after a long moment.  "I had no idea."  
  
Dryad smiled.   "It's alright if you don't feel the same.  I just wanted you to know.  Neither of us have much time left, so if I didn't say it now, I didn't think I'd ever get the chance.  But... whatever time we have... I want to spend it with you."  
  
"Dryad..."  
  
\---  
  
"I didn't quite return his feelings at that moment, but I didn't have the heart to say no to him, so... we became a couple for a time.  Being that sick didn't allow us to make much of it, but we could at least sneak up to the rooftop now and then just to get away from everything for a little while, or watch trashy bootleg movies together whenever time allowed.  But while I slowly got better, he only got worse, and about six months after that... he passed away in his sleep.  I don't know if we'd still be together today had he survived, but... I like to think I made his final days a little happier, at least."  
  
He fell silent for a moment.  
  
"Sorry... I kinda killed the mood, didn't I?" he snickered nervously in spite of himself.  "Alright, alright.  No more sad stuff.  Just... keep this between us.  Don't need all of Shade having a field day over it."  
  
"Of course." said Mint.  
  
Gaspard didn't particularly mind being labeled or rumor milled - after all, he was a short, somewhat scrawny mediocre fighter with pink hair who lived with three women, so they were bound to brew.  But he'd rather avoid adding more fuel to it whenever he could.  Plus, he'd rather not bring Dryad's family into it; they were good people and already had plenty of grief from losing a son and brother, after all.  
  
He'd thought of Marina in particular as he said that.  She was a big fan of something called "Kingdom of Wonder", and out of curiosity, he'd looked up a plot synopsis one day.  The first part of the series was apparently about a young man with a magical sword travelling between worlds in his quest to rescue a childhood flame who had turned out to be a princess, with a subplot about a rivalry with his longtime friend turning to a bitter feud as he was slowly seduced to the dark side by an evil sorceress.  Pretty standard stuff overall.  He hadn't bothered to read far beyond that, as the descriptions became very convoluted and many of the terms and elements within made little sense to him.  
  
But what made even _less_ sense to him was that virtually all of the fan fiction and art about the series was homoerotic in nature.  Almost none of it featured straight pairings; just the protagonist and any number of other characters, almost invariably male, and many explicit.  As far as he could tell the series' creators had never attempted to introduce any actual characterization to that effect, but nevertheless it had exploded online and seemed to greatly overshadow any official works the series had spawned.  Very bizarre, but he supposed it was a harmless enough thing to enjoy.  She'd also never struck him as the type to blab about her friends, but he'd rather not risk it in any case.  
  
Enough of that train of thought, though.  
  
"Well, that's all of us.  Except for you, Mint."  
  
"Oh, no.  I really don't have anything like... that." she replied sheepishly.  
  
"Everybody can do something." Clodagh replied.  "Don't hold out on us, leader."  
  
"Oh... alright." She removed her hat, then motioned everyone to come closer.  Opening her eyes wide, she then...  
  
"Oh what?!" Dirae recoiled slightly in surprise.  
  
She could somehow vibrate her eyes at high speed.  
  
"Not as fun as any of yours," she stated,  "But it's great for weirding people out at completely inappropriate moments."  
  
Which just left everyone wondering when she actually did that, and to what effect.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I may have had the Breakfast Club on my mind when I wrote this.
> 
> Dryad and his brother originated from an old, scrapped project of mine that I remember little about, save for their names. He'll get a bit more time later in the story, and while a fair bit of it is angsty, I tried to work in a humorous side too.


	12. An unlikely leader

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TRSR's leader tries to build a bridge.

It was her reality, but it still hardly felt real.  
  
A former desert lowlife, now leading a group of prospective Hunters-in-training.  Putting their needs before her own, and being repaid with genuine respect in turn.  Honest kindness and gratitude were luxuries in Vacuo, but she had finally found a team who had given her just that.  
  
Well, two of them did at least.  The jury was still out with Epsilon, who seemed to regard her every action with skepticism and distrust.  She couldn't blame the Atlesian _too_ much for that, but still, a little recognition for the effort would be nice here and there.  It's not like she had enjoyed all the robbery and violence in her past, nor the fear that each day could be her last as the law came down on her head or an attack would go wrong or her crew would mutiny and she'd get shanked in her sleep and dumped in a sand dune somewhere.  
  
She still wondered what Gehenna had seen in her that fateful day.  The Hell Knight had doubtlessly cut down dozens of bandits of her caliber, or slapped them in irons and left them to rot in a cell for the rest their days.  But Cinna... well, she'd made every effort to fight her prospective mark, but she was quickly left on the ground staring down the point of a sword.  She could only watch helpless as her underlings turned tail and fled, leaving her to her fate.  
  
Cinna had tried to instill a sense of honor among her crew; to not turn them into soulless killers just because life had dealt them a bad hand.  She'd given out harsh words, starvation discipline and a few beatings for those who had really messed up, but she'd made every effort to have the Teal Scarves be a force to be respected, if begrudgingly.  
  
And they showed their gratitude by abandoning her without a moment of hesitation.  
  
The next nine days were spent denying it, shouting threats and insults at her captor, whispering curses at those who would dare betray her after all she'd done for them and swearing revenge, and finally, ugly-sobbing at knowing her life was over and all she'd done, all she worked to build, was for nothing.  
  
"End it." she'd choked out, breaking four days of silence.  
  
"Hm?" asked Gehenna, infuriatingly calm as ever.  
  
"Just... get it over with."  
  
Silence.  
  
"Kill me.  Turn me in.  I don't care anymore.  You win." she sobbed again, watching her tears fall to the cave floor below.  
  
"But what about your friends?  Family?" asked Gehenna.  
  
"They don't care about me.  They never did."  
  
Those words cut like knives coming out.  But they were true.  
  
"And yourself?"  
  
"Who even cares.  I'm an orphan and a criminal.  Just another wasted life nobody will mourn." A pit of blackness welled up inside her at those words, swallowing up her innards.  It hurt.  
  
But it was true, too.  
  
"I'm a failure.  I'm nothing.  Let me be forgotten, at least." she'd tried to take at least one dignified breath before the end, but it caught on a suppressed sob.  
  
Couldn't even die with dignity.  God, she was trash.  
  
"You'll get what you desire." a solemness filled those words as Gehenna approached.  
  
A  mechanical *clack* sounded as Cinna's manacles were opened, dropping to the floor of the cave with a clatter.  Cinna looked up in puzzlement, just briefly enough to see Gehenna kneel down and embrace her.  After a moment, she spoke.  
  
"I'll give you a life worth living."  
  
\---  
  
She supposed it was a bit silly, letting someone carry her back to the light after digging a pit and throwing her in it.  
  
But damn it, Gehenna was the only one who'd ever shown any genuine concern or compassion for her, and now she was determined to make something of it.  She never wanted to go back to being some desert ruffian playing at being "honorable".  Not that she could, of course; the Enforcers had personally seen to that.  All the same, she wanted to make her mentor proud by turning herself, and her team, into a real force for good in Vacuo.  
  
But, that carried some problems in itself.  There was the very real opportunity that she would meet her old "friends" again on the field of battle.  But she'd resolved that if that day ever came... she'd fight them.  
  
Oh, they'd call her a traitor and a hypocrite and a dozen other ugly words, and they'd be right.  But _they_ were the worst kind of scum - thieves and cutthroats without honor or loyalty to anyone beside themselves.  In the eyes of Vacuo's justice system, they were just a threat to be dealt with, only a half-step above the Grimm.  
  
Given the chance, she'd weed them out and bury her past for good.  
  
\---  
  
At the very least, she was glad to see that her other two teammates had gotten on well.  A bit of luck on her side, as they were the last two to be paired up during the exam and had, for obvious reasons, never met one another before.  
  
Marina was incorrigibly hot-headed and really needed a volume control at times, but friendly enough once you got to know her.  At the very least, knew how to keep her insane strength in check so that she didn't yank your arm off during a handshake.  She was also Epsilon's opposite in almost every way, leading to her frequently getting on his nerves (though Cinna would never admit it, that amused her more than it should).  
  
Linda was an odd soul in every respect, seemingly blissfully unaware that most people viewed her as bizarre at best and a freak at worst.  That certainly wasn't aided by her disturbing Semblance, her outlandish fashion sense (hardly anything in her wardrobe wasn't adorned with stripes, polka dots, garish colors, or some combination thereof), nor her strange sense of humor that only she seemed to actually understand.  In spite of all that, she was invariably pleasant and friendly to everyone she met, and had made her teammates - even Epsilon - laugh on a few occasions.  It was hard to believe that she was a successful businesswoman too, as she didn't look or play the part at all around her team.  
  
In short, she was the one who made Cinna feel welcome here in spite of everything else.  
  
\---  
  
Linda had turned part of her office at Taggart Atelier into a makeshift study room for TRSR, which was where she and Linda usually found themselves during their free class period.  Limited budgets and a timetable for the exercise yard meant that they, Epsilon and Marina ended up on three different time slots for much of the day, which also had the unpleasant effect of making it much harder to coordinate with them.  
  
It also afforded her considerably fewer opportunities to build bridges with her partner, breeding doubts about this whole Huntress thing at the worst of times.  
  
"Can I ask you something, Linda?" Cinna spoke over a brief break.  
  
"Sure, what's up?"  
  
Where to even start.  
  
"You're... here at Shade just to get away from your family, right?  Because Hunters are the one force in Vacuo they won't dare cross?"  
  
She thought for a second.  "Nah.  I like it here.  Nobody's tried to set me on fire, glue me to a wall or make me join their creepy statue harem yet.  I was a little worried when I heard having a Semblance was part of the biz, but everyone's super nice."  
  
Or just terrified of you and yours, Cinna mused.  There were maybe a dozen people in the world outside the Silver family with Semblances that powerful, and most knew better than to flaunt them so openly.  
  
But there was something that nagged at her.  
  
"Why do you keep the name 'Silver', then?  Can't imagine you have any good memories attached to it."  
  
"Spite, mostly.  The old hag crawled out of hell's sewer system, but I don't have to bask in filthiness with her just because she's my mother."  
  
Cinna snickered.  She could get pretty colorful describing her mother.  Then again, most anyone in the business world relished the opportunity to do the same, as she'd probably tried to horn in on their territory at one point or another, and often succeeded.  
  
"Okay.  What do you think of me as a leader, then?  Am I just as bad at this as I was when... well, you know."  
  
Linda laughed.  "I think your mistake there was trying to build a castle out of dirt.  I don't blame you for trying, though, especially when you didn't see any way out of that life short of the guillotine.  But to answer your question: You're a fine leader.  You're honest, you know how to make hard decisions, and I really believe your heart is in this.  And not just because it has to be."  
  
Cinna let out a small sigh.  "I wish everyone had that kind of optimism."  
  
"Oh, Epsy?  He'll come around.  Can't make everybody like you on day one."  
  
"I'll have to eventually." Cinna mused.  "But how do you build a bridge with someone when you're everything he was raised to shun and despise?"  
  
Linda chuckled again.  "I don't know about 'raised', but he's definitely painted a picture in his head.  And I think I know just how to throw a bucket on it."  
  
Not literally, Cinna hoped.  
  
\---  
  
Cinna had spent a lot of time out of his view lately, and whenever he asked about it, she'd never give a clear answer as to where she'd been.  He'd made an effort to trail her at times, but she'd always manage to slip out of his view before he could discover where she headed each day.  Neither Marina nor Linda betrayed any clue to where she was going either, which had only deepened his suspicions.  Was Shade truly so oblivious to letting a former bandit in that they'd let her continue in her illicit ways right under their noses?  Or were they just a front for criminal activity themselves?  
  
Heading back home and transferring to Atlas Academy was sounding better by the day.  He just needed one good excuse...  
  
Returning to TRSR's room again, he found it completely black.  Of course they were out again.  He reached over to flick on the overhead light, and--  
  
"Surprise!" three voices sounded in unison as the room illuminated.  
  
"Happy birthday, Epsilon!" Marina added.  
  
"N-- no, it's not his birthday." Cinna quickly corrected.  
  
"It isn't?"  
  
"Marina, we went to school together for three years.  It's the 24th of February." Epsilon added, exasperated.  
  
A beat.  "Oh yeah!  One of the candles fell out of your cake and ended up lighting the curtains on fire."  
  
Then the alarm went off and the entire student body and faculty spent the next forty minutes outside in bitter cold, waiting for the fire department to secure the building.  Only Marina could forget something like that.  
  
"In any case, what's this all about?" he asked.  
  
Cinna presented him with a wrapped package.  "A small peace offering, actually."  
  
After a moment of consideration, he opened the box, finding himself looking at an embroidered piece of cloth with the Rubine family emblem on it.  Setting it atop his bedspread, he pulled out a fully-sized quilt with it as its centerpiece, framed with an elegant gold and red pattern.  All immaculately well-crafted and stitched.  
  
"You all made this for me?" he finally spoke, somewhat bewildered.  
  
"Well, it was my idea." Linda spoke at last. "But Marina came up with the design.  Cinna did most of the hard work, though."  
  
"I did have to learn a few tricks from Linda." she admitted.  "Never sewed up anything bigger than a split seam in my life."  
  
He was struggling to find words.  Had he really misjudged them so badly?  
  
"I know you have your doubts about me." spoke Cinna.  "But I wanted to show you that I'm sincere in wanting to do good in Vacuo.  I thought a token of good faith would help build a bridge between us.  I know it's going to take more than this, but... it could be a good start."  
  
He blinked twice, still trying to process this turn of events.  Finally, he spoke.  
  
"I... feel I owe you an apology." he said.  "I always suspected the worst of you."  
  
Cinna beamed with happiness at those words.  
  
"But... I do question the wisdom of spending so much time on this when we have tests on Monday." he added.  
  
Cinna chuckled.  "Well, we can work on that."


	13. A new Gaspard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Doubts are cleared and a revelation is had.

Sparring class again. The moment of truth.

Gaspard was still far from the picture of a trained fighter, but had improved considerably since he'd started at Shade, and had managed to last longer and longer since his start. Eventually, though, he would be worn down due to lack of stamina, and his Aura wouldn't last long thereafter as he simply couldn't effectively defend himself. Regardless, he was managing a passing grade, so his losing streak usually wasn't something he paid much mind to.

"Usually" being the key word.  
His parents had paid a surprise visit on this particular day, so the pressure was on to show them that, despite their misgivings, his chosen career was something he was cut out for.  
\--  
  
With a split morning schedule of physically-demanding PT and Aura Control, exhausting in its own right, it was little wonder that they were afforded an hour-long lunch break each day before sparring class began.  As they spoke about strategies and the tactics of their peers in preparation, a familiar voice broke through the usual din of the cafeteria.  
  
"We know you're busy, but you could at least call once in a while."  
  
He turned at those words, seeing two very familiar faces smiling down at him.  
  
"Mom!  Dad!" he sprung into a hug, catching them both off-guard with his speed.  
  
"Well, all that training's sure put a spring in your step." his mother answered.  
  
"Don't want to get stepped on by a Goliath." he replied, not missing a beat.  
  
"You could probably take it now.  I remember when you could barely handle being stepped on by a cat."  
  
They all collectively laughed for a moment before he turned back to their table.  
  
"Team CRML, I would like to introduce you to my parents: Nadine and Ferrand Rhodonite."  
  
A collective quizzical look began to form.  
  
"...I'm adopted."  
  
He'd momentarily forgotten that he had only told Linda of his parentage.  The fact that he didn't resemble either of them in the slightest probably didn't help things, either.  
  
That had cleared the air, though.  His leader was the first to rise, eager to make up for her small gaffe.  
  
"Hello.  I am Mint Clovis of Clan Clovis.  A pleasure to meet you both." Mint turned on the charm immediately as she shook both their hands.  
  
"Oh, Clovis.  Are you Asher's daughter?" asked Nadine.  
  
Her expression fell slightly.  "Yes, that's my father."  
  
"Well, I think you're doing wonderful work for Vacuo."  
  
She chuckled slightly.  "Well, thank you.  I hope to do good in my own way with team CRML."  
  
Probably best not to get into family drama, she mused.  
  
"Dirae Myosotis, Gaspard's partner."  spoke the giantess, towering a good eight inches over both of them as she shook their hands.  "I... might moonlight as a weightlifter too."  
  
"We average out to be pretty good." Gaspard joked.  
  
"Hey, remember our rule.  No more self-deprecating or you get the snakebite again."  
  
Gaspard raised his hands in mock surrender.  
  
"'Sides, you've killed a Shellcreeper and helped take down a Hunter-killer.  That counts for something, I'd say!" she laughed.  
  
"Oh, I suppose." he added.  
  
That just left one.  Please don't say something weird pleasepleaseplease.  
  
"Clodagh Lapis.  I'll admit, I thought Gaspard was just a spoiled brat at first."  
  
What are you doing, Clodagh.  
  
"But I've learned that we all have our struggles to face.  I don't feel alone anymore with team CRML."  
  
A mischievous grin.  
  
"Besides, it's nice to finally have someone who can match me in an insult contest."  
  
A second ticked past.  
  
"Vomitous vulture."  
  
"Wistful waif." Gaspard fired back.  
  
"Xerotic Xenopus."  
  
How the hell did she always get X words without even missing a beat.  
  
"Yawping Yuppie."  
  
"Zipless Zygote."  
  
"Asinine Aardwolf."  
  
"Belaguered Blin..." Ferrand began to chime in, but stopped himself.  
  
"Oh, go ahead.  I've heard them all." Clodagh replied.  
  
"Beleaguered Blind Bologna-Biter."  
  
A momentary pause before Clodagh laughed out loud.  
  
The second round was called at "Nebulous Nematode" as the bell sounded, signaling that their next class started in ten minutes.  They made their way to the arena, Gaspard prepared to do some intense last-minute cramming.  
  
He had about thirty potential opponents, a notebook full of notes and strategies, and anywhere from twenty to fifty minutes to go over all of it.  
  
\---  
  
Well, this was a mess.  
  


  
Gaspard had yet to win a sparring match, and his opponent today was one Carol Llanite, member of team COAL who had yet to  _lose_ a match.  Three others had managed a draw and there was one disqualification owing to... ugliness, but no one had won cleanly against her as of yet.

  


  
She bore a powerful Semblance, allowing her to transform Aura into tangible crystalline structures, effectively giving herself armor and makeshift weapons in the event she got disarmed.  That would make it difficult to hit her with a lighter blade. Dust shells weren't an option, either; anything bigger than small-caliber prefab ammunition was forbidden in sparring due to risk of serious injury.  As his weapon and its shells were all custom-built, that ruled them out.

  


  
That didn't leave him much to work with, but he had to give it his best anyway.

  


  
They stepped out into the small arena, friends, family, classmates and staff all with eyes on them as the protective barrier flicked on.  They bumped fists as a sign of mutual respect.

  


  
Here goes nothing, he thought, hand on his saber in preparation to draw.

  


  
He didn't get a chance.

  


  
The whistle sounded and he was already on the defensive, leaping backward to evade a wide swing from Carol's hammer, which she had produced and swung in an eyeblink.  She closed in with considerable speed, readying another swing that quickly embedded itself in the surface beneath them.  That gave him the opening he needed to draw, but not enough time to actually use it, as she'd pulled it back up and whipped it at him again in one smooth motion.

  


  
She was just slightly too far out, though, allowing him to step out of the hammer's range and then follow up in with a flurry of thrusts. The first few were sidestepped before she raised her right arm to catch a diagonal swing, a colorless quartz forming around it to prevent it from striking her directly.

  


  
She even made a notched surface in it to catch his blade, leaving him momentarily immobile as he attempted to pull it free. A second crystalline structure formed upon her left foot, which let her kick her immobilized quarry's leg out from under him, taking Gaspard to a knee and forcing him to lose grasp on his weapon.

  


  
He was off-balance, which was never a good thing in a fight.

  


  
A quick draw and slash with his dagger bought him a brief moment to roll away, but Carol was upon him again in moments, knuckles of her right hand encased in another crystalline formation.  He'd managed to parry the swing at the last moment, pushing the limb out of the path of a direct hit but still clipping his chin.  Doing all he could from that position, he threw a punch at her exposed side; she had weaved away just before impact but was still nicked in the ribs, stunning her long enough for Gaspard to slip out of the clinch and ready himself for the next round.

  


  
Gaspard had hoped that her pursuit would shake his weapon free, but his opponent was wise to that idea, having formed more crystals around it to keep it firmly embedded and out of his hands.  She hadn't continued her pursuit immediately, though, taking a moment to return her weapon to a two-handed grip before doing so.

  


  
Gaspard dared a quick glance at the scoreboard to his left, which revealed his Aura to be at a slightly higher level than Carol's; a result of her Semblance draining her reserves to convert it into a physical form.  Still, he was without his primary weapon and facing a stronger, fully armed opponent; the advantage was definitely not with him now.

  


  
A wide upward swing forced Gaspard backward once more, nearing him closer to the arena's edge.  His opponent was pressing the advantage, trying to box him in. He sidestepped to the right as Carol stepped backward and continued her hammer's swing in a 360-degree motion, right into the path he had intended use in his escape.  Leaping high, he managed to clear the weapon's head before he hit the ground once again, aiming a sweep at the back of her legs in one smooth motion.

  


  
As he had hoped, having an encased left foot slowed her ability to react and allowed him to score a solid hit, buckling her legs and sending her to a kneel.   Capitalizing on the advantage, he whirled, scoring a hit with his dagger and draining her Aura further.

  


  
Carol was undeterred, however.  Letting her hammer fall to the ground and kicking off the ground to spin on one knee, she swung her rock-coated fist directly into his chest, slipping past his guard.  His Aura stopped any serious damage, but her strength was still enough to send him flying back a short distance and leave him in considerable pain.

  


  
She wasn't planning on giving him a chance to recover.  Raising quickly to her feet and encasing her other hand in mineral as well, she pursued with a flurry of punches, driving him back toward the wall.  He weaved to the side of a left then got clipped by a right, sharp crystals raking against his arm until he met the resistance of his embedded saber.  Another hard blow to his ribs followed, but he simply gritted his teeth instead of trying to retreat.  
  
This was his only opportunity; he had to capitalize.

  


  
Forcing himself to focus through the haze of pain, Gaspard thrust his dagger with all the speed he could muster, landing two more thrusts that glanced off Aura, before a shove and a brutal, quartz-encased leaping knee strike sent him backwards into the arena wall, dagger dropping from his hand as his mind blanked from the jarring blow.

  


  
Through the haze of pain, he could see that he barely had a a quarter of his Aura left, with Carol standing much higher at about 47 percent.  The match ended once it dropped below twenty, and his opponent was still fast approaching, showing barely any sign of fatigue from aura depletion or pain.

  


  
It was a bit earlier than he would have liked, but it was now or never.

  


  
He produced a roll of coins from his belt, firing one toward her using his Aura trick.  Carol saw it coming, swatting it aside with her quartz-shielded arm.  Some material splintered off from the impact, momentarily causing her to blink to avoid being blinded by it.

  


  
That bought him a moment to fire several more, one of which clipped her in the leg, another in the chest.  Her response was to encase herself in a thin layer of crystal, closing off any vulnerable spot he could easily exploit, as she broke into a charge at his position.

  


  
Two more coins were fired, both glancing off her armored arms as they protected her face.  He hoped it would at least buy him a moment to escape to a more advantageous position.

  


  
It didn't.

  


  
She'd leapt into his path, stopping his momentum, before driving him back again with a flurry of punches.  They were slower than before owing to the extra weight she now carried, but that didn't matter much when one solid blow would finish him.  He danced back and weaved under a slightly-too-high right, allowing him to maneuver back to the arena's center.  He dared another glance at the scoreboard.

  


  
Thirty-one percent.  Still higher than he would like, but he was where he needed to be to make his plan work.

  


  
Another coin was launched, just a bit too far left.  However, she reeled forward slightly as something struck her from behind.  Capitalizing on that, he fired another.

  


  
Like the first, it ricocheted off the barrier at a quickly-calculated angle and sent itself right into Carol's exposed back.

  


  
Twenty-four.  Carol couldn't make any more armor at that level, lest she disqualify herself.  She'd let herself get pushed back; going on the offensive was the only option.

  


  
Snapping off a large chunk of quartz from her shoulder armor, she flung it in Gaspard's direction, forcing him to weave aside to avoid it.  She broke into a charge right after, throwing the full force of her weight at her opponent.  His final shot went high as Carol's tackle impacted and they both tumbled to the ground.  His arm was quickly immobilized to prevent another shot.  
  
Many of Gaspard's matches had ended here, as he simply hadn't the strength to get free of being pinned by a bigger opponent.  It looked like this one would be no different.  
  
She reeled back for one finishing punch, Gaspard instinctively raising his free arm to block as the buzzer sounded, much to their confusion.

  


  
They both glanced over to the display.  Gaspard sat at 20.3.  
  
Carol was at 19.8.

  


  
\---

  
Gaspard had won his first sparring match.  It was the result he wanted, and had mostly gone according to the strategy he'd planned, but still, it just seemed... wrong, somehow.  
  
His final coin shot had been thrown off, but it still managed to find a relatively favorable angle on the ricochet, striking Carol in the back of the leg during her tackle and doing just enough Aura damage to call the match.  She hadn't noticed it at the time owing to the heavy impact of her "armor" during the tackle, but the replay showed it to be true.  As did a coin she found still wedged behind her armor at the point of impact.  
  


  
Luck, he supposed.  What a Semblance to have.  
  
Still, at least she took it well.  
  
"I'm finally beaten cleanly, and it's by a quarter.  What twenty-five sense does that make." she said, chipping some crystals off her shoulder with a small pick in an attempt to free his saber.  
  
"E... you're not mad?"  
  
"Nah.  More just bewildered that your ridiculous plan actually worked.  Didn't think that coin-flinging trick would actually win you a fight... well, ever."  
  
Neither did, he, honestly.  But he had to come up with something to outpace a stronger - and faster - opponent.  
  
Still, much better to get it from her than from her teammate.  One Odessa Sylphid, mistress of the horrible temperament.  He pitied Team COAL for having to put up with that headache on a daily basis.  
  
Crystallized Aura fell to the ground and dissolved as his weapon was finally freed.  Returning it to him, the two combatants shook hands as a sign of solidarity, wished one another luck in future matches, then got to spend the rest of the period observing teammates and classmates in action.  
  
Gaspard was so taken aback by the whole turn of events that the pun didn't even register until he'd returned to the stands.  
  
\---  
  
The Rhodonites found themselves on the dorm balcony as night began to fall, still talking about anything and everything.  
  
"So, Semblance is a manifestation of Aura, unique to each person, and that's what they were using to do all those crazy tricks." Nadine summarized.  
  
"Yeah.  It's something that takes a lot of training to master.  Learning to use your Aura is one thing, but that's another hurdle in itself." Gaspard answered.  
  
"I remember you mentioning you hadn't mastered Semblance yet before initiation day, but I didn't know what you'd meant." Ferrand added.  "So... did you ever find out what yours can do?"  
  
Welp.  It was now or never.  
  
He chuckled nervously.  "Well, mine's a bit different.  It's not something I actively _control_ , per se.  As it turns out, it's... fortune.  Luck."  
  
"...Luck?  You always roll sevens?"  
  
"That's part of it." he answered.  "But more broadly, things just... seem to go well for me, more often than not.  I guess the right answer to a test question I don't know, or I find the exact quantity of Dust I need in a shop after the midday rush.  Or I manage to... well, get a lucky shot and win a sparring match."  
  
Sigh.  
  
"I can't tell you when it kicked in exactly, but... I kinda have a feeling it played a part in my turnaround.  Brought me back from death's door.  Made the treatment work.  Maybe even earlier than that, in fact."  
  
He faced the floor again, mustering up the courage to keep going.  
  
But he had to, lest this train of thought drive him mad.  


  


"There's something I need to ask you, too.  I feel horrible doubting you like this, but... I have to know."

Dragging the dagger across his own heart.  Why did he do this to himself.

"You said you gave me my name because your fortunes started to turn after you found me out in the desert.  So, did you... know about my Semblance, somehow, when you took me in that day?"

Whydidyousaythatyouungratefulshitchildnowtheyprobablyhateyou...

"Oh, now that's ridiculous." Nadine answered.

He looked up.

"I wasn't stringing you along just now.  I only barely knew what Aura and Semblance were before today, let alone what they were capable of."

"That's right." Ferand added.  "We're just a lowly dockworker and a biologist who went broke in Vale and came here to start a new life, free of constant hounding by debtors.  But when we found you along the way... well, we were horrified that anyone would just abandon a helpless child, so we added you to that equation.  I don't know whether it was fortune or fate or what, but it happened.  And now, here we all are."

"I... gods, why would I even think something like that?" he rubbed his eyes.

Nadine smiled.  "We all have our doubts and misgivings sometimes.  But I don't mind saying it: you're the bravest person I know."

He looked up again, finally. "Oh, now you're just flattering me."

"No, I mean it.  You're not afraid to speak your mind, and you've never given up on anything you've put your mind to.  When you want something, you get out there and you earn it, no matter what it takes.  You've got the drive, and through that, you'll get the talent.  Luck has nothing to do with it."

"It does, though.  I wouldn't be around at all if not for it."

"...Fair enough.  But you also know that it's not something you can rely on.  Being lucky can get you out of a jam here and there, but it's no substitute for skill.  You're going to have to work twice as hard to overcome people who can make ice out of nothing or leap buildings or crush bricks in their hands, but you'll find a way.  That's more of a blessing than anything Fortuna could give you."

They may not have been of a bloodline, but she could still read her child like a book and say just the right thing to dispel his doubts.

"I do have one question, though."

An inquisitive look.

"...What was that about a Hunter-killer?"

The story of his initiation, and his many trials since, continued well into the night.


	14. Dryad Glade

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little reminiscing.

Once there was a young boy.  Born into the cruelest country in an already cruel world, he nevertheless lived happily, spending his days with his parents and older brother in a small village near the capital and tending to a humble farm in an oasis.  
  
His fortunes soon turned, however, as he grew weaker day by day.  His parents took him into town to visit a hospital, where he was told that he had fallen prey to a rare disease.  They could prolong his life, but his chance at growing to old age was slim.  
  
The boy was taken into long-term care, and that hospital became his world.  White walls and fluorescent lights replaced blue skies and gentle winds.  He bemoaned his fate, angry that whatever powers gave him life would conspire to take it away again so soon, and he grew reclusive and embittered.  
  
Several months in and out of treatment passed, and he met another young boy of his age, who had by chance fallen ill to the same malady as himself.   At first the boy's optimism annoyed him, but in time he grew to admire his quick wit and infectious sense of humor.  At the boy's behest, he apologized to the others in the ward whom he had long shunned.  Before he knew it, they had all become fast friends, and for the first time since his prognosis, he learned to love life again.  
  
Time weathered on as both he and his friend went in and out of care, and he began to discover new things about himself.  Admiration and respect for his friend became something more.  An infatuation.  
  
No, more than that.  A longing.  
  
His friend's rose-red hair had faded to a pale pink as disease slowly claimed him, a constant reminder of their precarious position at death's door.  But his frail beauty only seemed to grow, not fade, by the day.  His passion for life and learning, even as it grew more limited, and the determination to keep fighting to the very end, were things he would never have known without him.  
  
He feared to tell anyone of this, however, especially his friend.  Things between them would change if he did, and if they - no, he - rejected him... well, he didn't know what he'd do.  Probably lapse back into bitterness and loathing; a place never wanted to know again.  
  
So he kept his feelings a secret, even though his friend's smile made him melt.  The boy's worsening health only made him sadder, enough to forget his own pain and weakness even as it encompassed more and more of his life.  
  
Then one night, his friend nearly passed.  
  
He woke to the din of a medical crew rushing down the halls, and underneath the crack of the door, saw his friend's room lit up as bright as day.  
  
For the first time, he felt abject terror.  
  
In his blind panic, he'd attempted to scramble to his wheelchair to get to his friend and had fallen, bruising himself rather badly.  As he struggled to rise, a night nurse found him.  With much effort she had managed to talk some sense into him, and he eventually let her escort him to a quiet ward to treat his injuries and keep him company for a time, attempting to ease his fears.  
  
It had only worked to a point.  
  
He had no sleep that night, worn down with worry and kicking himself over his own foolishness.  What had he even hoped to do had he managed to make it out of his room on his own?  Even he wasn't sure.  But he was fearful, worried and lovesick all at once, none of which ever lent themselves to rationality.  
  
Thankfully, his friend was eventually stabilized and resting comfortably, but he found no respite.  Not yet.  He had to see his friend still alive, with his own eyes, before he could have peace.  
  
He might not get another chance to tell him his feelings.  
  
The next half-day was spent waiting for him to awake, for his gathered friends and family to say what they needed to say to him, and eventually go their separate ways as visiting hours ended.  He stayed behind, patiently waiting and weathering the storm in his mind, until they had all left.  
  
And so, running on haywire emotions and insomnia-fueled adrenaline, he told his friend his true feelings at last.  Time stopped while he awaited his friend's answer.  
  
 _"I love you, too."_  
  
To his joy, his friend accepted his feelings, and they resolved to spend as much time together as they could before the end came for them again.  
  
The worst night he'd ever had gave way to the happiest moment of his life.  His time on this planet may have been too short by anyone else's standards, but he'd leave it happy.  After all, he'd gotten his fairytale ending.  
  
\---  
  
A laborious drawing of a peach on a branch, with the initials G and D within, punctuated the final page.  Beneath it lay an oft-repeated inscription: "To Eternity, and all the wonders it will bring."  
  
A tear formed in Gaspard's eye as he saw it.  
  
His late boyfriend was more of a romantic than he had known, even when they had spent their brief time together.  Though he really shouldn't have been surprised by that; he never doubted that Dryad's love was true adoration, not just the carnal lust that most boys that age felt.  He'd spent any time they were apart writing new poems and stories in anticipation of their next meeting, and even his kisses were surprisingly chaste, if many. Gaspard had been ambivalent about his own sexuality at the time (and still took exception to being labeled on the topic), but when someone devoted their heart and soul to making you happy in any way they could, even as they were already living on borrowed time, it was impossible not to love them back.  
  
That story, as well as many of Dryad's other writings, was part of a small compilation which Dryad's brother Nymph had also contributed to.  He had been shocked to learn the truth about his sibling, as had his parents, particularly as they were a family of more traditional beliefs.  In time, however, they came to fully accept him and his relationship, being thankful to Gaspard for making Dryad's final days happy ones.  Gaspard's own parents were surprised as well, though they'd stayed true to words they'd said to him long before.  
  
 _"One day, you'll find someone who loves you more than anyone in the world.  You'll love them back._ _And no matter who it is, we'll support you."_  
  
Other stories within spoke of the Glade family's struggles to come to terms with their son's death and identity, and one came from the ward nurse, Sage.  She had long suspected Dryad had feelings toward Gaspard, but his actions and words that night had confirmed it.  Walking in on them kissing at least once probably did the trick too, though even after that she has retained her professional demeanor and allowed them to reveal their secret on their own terms.  She had also been the one to comfort Gaspard after Dryad's passing, giving him a ray of solace in his darkest time and encouraging him to keep up the fight in his honor.  
  
At Gaspard's request, one story came from himself as well, concerning a particular part of Dryad's tale.  He remembered the scene as though it were yesterday.  
  
\---  
  
Dryad's eyes filled with tears of happiness at those words.  "Thank you.  Thank you so much."  
  
He rose into as much of a hug as he could muster from his chair, which caused Gaspard to catch sight of a large, rather ugly bruise on his underarm.  
  
"Dryad..."  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"...What happened to you?  Your arm..."  
  
He shrank back at those words.  
  
"I... it's nothing."  
  
"Don't start our new beginning on a lie." Gaspard admonished.  
  
He looked away, a slight blush betraying his feeling of shame.  
  
"Well... when I saw your room lit up last night and the doctors rushing in... I panicked.  I tried to climb out of bed and get to you.  Ended up taking a nasty fall over my chair."  
  
Gaspard sighed in exasperation.  
  
"I wasn't thinking straight, I know.  I had to get some sense slapped into me by Sage."  He instinctively rubbed his cheek at the memory.  "But I couldn't lose you without telling you how I felt.  It'd destroy me."  
  
Gaspard managed a weak laugh.  "Well in that case, I'll forgive you, just this once.  But please, no more crazy stunts like that.  I want to spend as much time with you as I can, after all."  
  
He smiled again, looking Gaspard in the eyes again at last.  "Of course."  
  
"One other small request."  
  
"Anything."  
  
"...Get some sleep.  I insist."  
  
Even with all that waiting and emotional turmoil, he'd forgotten that he'd been awake for nearly seventeen hours on less than four of sleep.  But when those next words came...  
  
"I promise I'll still be here when you wake up."  
  
He knew it would all be okay.  
  
\---  
  
The rest of Gaspard's story mostly concerned the days following Dryad's passing.  He had been fortunate to recover enough over those intervening months to make the trip to his late boyfriend's funeral, and it was there that he made a promise.  If his treatment continued to show positive results, he vowed that he would do as much good in the world as he could, bringing happiness and meaningfulness to others as he had to Dryad.  
  
And now, by the grace of good fortune and sheer persistence, here he was at Shade Academy, a beacon of salvation for all in Vacuo.  
  
He tucked the book away on his shelf, then set off for his overdue visit to Muninn Memorial.  There were still many there in need of hope.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a bit more in store for Dryad and Gaspard.


End file.
